


Dear John

by i_dreamthedream



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Actual French Translations, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Break Up, F/M, First Kiss, Flashbacks, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Getting Back Together, Getting Together, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Pining, References to Depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-02
Updated: 2016-10-28
Packaged: 2018-08-12 15:11:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7939303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_dreamthedream/pseuds/i_dreamthedream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eliza loves her new apartment. She thinks it’s the perfect place for her to write her new book. The only problem is, she has no idea what this book will be about. That is until she accidentally reads a letter addressed to the former tenant. Now she finds herself doing everything to find out what happened between John Laurens and Alexander Hamilton and just maybe, give their story a happy ending.  </p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: « - Puis l’adorée, un soir, a daigné vous écrire !... »

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys :) Sooooo I've been working on this fic since June because I needed to cope with the fact that I will probably never see Hamilton on stage and because when Lin, Pippa and Leslie left it broke my heart...  
> I'm done with the writting process, I only have to edit the last chapters but please feel free to tell me of any mistakes (English is not my first language, so there probably are some!)  
> Anyway, I haven't decided yet if I'm gonna post the chapters once or twice a week. I guess it will depend of your reactions.  
> Enjoy the ride kids :D 
> 
> PS: The titles are all from French poems. That's because I'm a huge nerd. I'll probably babble about the poems and their authors a lot so... yeah... But on the bright side, my damn French self can assure you that all the French translations are 100% accurate :D

Eliza liked her new apartment. It was ideally located in Manhattan, halfway from her editor’s office and Angelica’s place, the rent was reasonable and so far the neighbors seemed friendly. It was the perfect environment for inspiration to strike. This was where she would write her best seller, she knew it. This was her chance. Her first book had been a hit and she had finally been able to sign a contract with a great editor and to quit her former job. She was now a full-time novelist. The only problem was, she had been living in that apartment for three months and she still had no idea what to write about. She had only come up with the beginning of boring ideas.

“You’ll find something,” Peggy assured her one night from her couch. “I know you will.”

“Well I better find it quick because my editor is getting impatient!” she answered dryly.

Peggy rolled her eyes, “You’re trying too much!” she said. “That’s the kind of thing that comes to you when you’re not looking for it!”

Eliza huffed.

“I just want a story to tell,” she whined. Peggy chuckled and patted her shoulder.

-

It was a Sunday and the morning sun was peaking through the windowpanes of the bedroom. Alexander slowly drifted off of his sleepy haze and looked around at his surroundings. The floor was covered in dozens of articles of clothing that he and John had pilled off of each other’s body in a rush the night before. He noticed John had once again reorganized his book collection on the left side of the shelf. It used to be by authors, then by date, then by genre and if Alexander wasn’t mistaken he now had chosen to do it by color. The door was ajar since the handle had broken months before and they had never bothered to fix it. He could hear soft humming from somewhere in the apartment. The clock on his bedside table read 9.42am, which meant he had overslept by his standard. He got up, made the bed – it was a hot New York summer and they only slept with sheets, no covers – and put on clean boxers from his closet. He debated picking up the clothes to put them in the laundry basket but he decided against it when he recognized the smell coming from the kitchen.

He made his way there, careful not to make a sound so John wouldn’t hear him. He leaned against the doorway while John kept on busying himself around the stoves, still singing to himself and oblivious to his boyfriend’s presence. He was wearing his old college jersey and a pair of Alexander’s underwear. He leaned up to his tiptoe to grab the sugar in the upper cupboard and Alex shamelessly watched his long legs on display. _God how did he get so lucky?_ John then went to the fridge to get the eggs when he noticed him. His whole face lit up and all Alex could do was smile back.

“Hey,” he said lamely, walking toward John to peck his lips gently.

“Hi baby girl,” John replied softly. “Sleep well?”

Alexander nodded.

“There’s coffee in the pod and I’m almost done with the pancakes,” John smiled. “Just ten more minutes.”

“You’re spoiling me,” Alexander answered fondly. He took his favorite mug that read: _“Heterosexuality is not normal, just common”_ and poured himself a generous amount of the dark liquid.

“You’ve destroyed Seabury in court, your client was acquitted and Burr gave you the week off,” John said distractedly while breaking the eggs. “I think it calls for celebration.”

“I thought we had already done some _celebrating_ last night,” Alex smirked.

“Keep that smug tone and no pancakes and no sex for you,” was John’s only reply.

Alex mock-gasped, “You wouldn’t dare!”

John raised an eyebrow, unimpressed before putting his attention back to cooking. He didn’t notice Alex had moved until he was pressed against him, his chest against his own back. Alex was revealing in the scent of John – all sweat and sugar and coffee – and sighed. John immediately let go of his whisk and turned around. He wrapped his arms around the smaller man’s body, marveling at how well they fitted together. Alex closed his eyes as he listened to John’s heartbeat, steady and strong. Finally he looked up to find John looking at him tenderly. He leaned down to drop a very sweet kiss on his lips, full of love and promises.

“I love you, you know?” Alex whispered.

“I love you too.”

 -

The letter arrived on a Thursday in the middle of January. Eliza didn’t realize it wasn’t hers to read until too late – it was the first time she’d received something addressed to the former tenant in since moving in. Shrugging, she figured she might as well read it entirely.

_“Dear John,_

_If you haven’t burned this letter and you are reading it, you first need to know how deeply sorry I am. For as long as I can remember, every good thing that has ever happened to me has always left me. I remember the warmth in the Caribbean – you know that winter in the US had never treated me well – and more than that, I remember feeling safe in my mother’s embrace. I felt safe even when the fever was at its worse. Alas that fever took my mother away and yet I couldn’t seem to die. Then the hurricane came, crushing what little remained of my home. When I arrived in America, I already knew I would have to fight for what I wanted, for what I needed to accomplish._

_Meeting you was not part of my plans, John. Falling in love with you was out of my control. After all the damages I’ve done to us, I still cherish in my memory every moment we spent together. Those are the happiest memories I have. You were far too perfect to be true, far too good to put up with me, my constant working and my aggressiveness. I always found it strange, that two men as angry as the two of us could feel so calm next to each other. Did I calm you John? You calmed me. You calmed me when the world was so ugly, so wrong and there was nothing I could do about it... All I wanted to do was punch something but then you would look at me, take me in your arms and tell me that everything would be okay and I would believe you. Everytime. You never seemed bothered by my rambling or my totally fucked up sleep scheduled. No… No despite all of those things, you stayed. You stayed and you loved me. And the foul I was couldn’t stop listening to that voice in the back of my head, saying that nothing good ever happened to me without being torn apart._

_I was weak; I was a coward. I claim to fight for what is right; I use my words to speak up against violence and injustice. But when it came to defend the most important thing in my life, I stood motionless when you said we were over. I didn’t say a word when I watched you pack your things. I wasn’t able to stop you from walking out of my life. My dearest Laurens what have I done? I know I never deserved you John. I know there is no more chance for us, that the only future when you and I are a ‘we’ is the one I’m building on papers at night, wrapped in blankets and yet still cold without your warmth. There is something I realized only too late: you by my side, that would have been enough._

_Adieu, my dear Laurens. I will remain forever yours,_

_Alexander”_

 

It wasn’t a breakup letter per se. And to say the person who wrote it was good with his words was an understatement: halfway through the first paragraph, Eliza felt her eyes watering. This man’s story was not just touching; it was heartbreaking. She was suddenly hit by the realization that John Laurens – whoever this guy was – would never read those words. This couldn’t be right.

Eliza smiled. She’d just found what story to tell.


	2. Chapter one: « Dans ma maison vous viendrez »

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thank you so much for all the comments and kudos, that made my day :D 
> 
> So I've decided to update once a week so be on look out every Friday! 
> 
> This chapter is not super plotty but there is some cuteness that I'm sure you'll enjoy :)

Georges Washington’s desk was at the image of the man himself: impeccable. Each item, from the pen to the stapler had its own place and mustn’t be moved under any circumstances. He liked the order of it, the familiarity. That and he was a bit of a control freak so having everything where it was supposed to be gave him the impression of control. He applied the same logic to his wardrobe, which was why he only ever wore perfectly ironed suit jackets, with his pocket-handkerchief matching the color of his tie. Eliza often wondered if he ever wore sweatpants when he was at home. But that kind of concerns couldn’t exactly be voiced to her editor so she kept them to herself. She would never do anything that might get her on his bad side. The man could be either sweet and paternal or cold and formidable. Fortunately she was faced by the first version, who also seemed to be in a good mood. _Good,_ she thought, _I need him to be._

“So I trust you’ve found something to write about?” Washington smiled.

“Yes sir!” Eliza answered.

“Well, tell me!”

“Sir, I opened this letter by mistake the other day,” she said, giving it to him.

Washington’s eyes skimmed over the page rapidly.

“Well I would certainly publish _that_ guy!” he commented. “But I’m not sure what it has to do with your next book.” He added, perplexed.

“Sir if it’s alright with you, I’d like to investigate the story of that couple and write it down. I’ll change the names obviously but from the little elements in the letter, it does look like something…” she struggled to find the right word.

“Tragic?” Washington supplied.

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “It certainly didn’t end well but who’s to say it wasn’t worth the heartbreak? And beside, John Laurens didn’t read that letter so it may not be over.”

“I didn’t peg you for a helpless romantic Eliza!” the older man smirked.

“Sir I think this is not just a love story,” Eliza felt her cheeks burn. “This Alexander’s story looks like the perfect example of the American dream!”

Washington still didn’t look convinced. Eliza bit her bottom lip.

“Sir I know I can do this, I can write this story and not make it sappy or cheesy or boring! Please trust me with this!” she begged. She had to convince him. All this time in her new apartment searching for ideas and it was the only one that didn’t make her want to cry. More than that, she found herself invested in those men story. She looked around in her place and she wondered what it had looked like when they were living in it. Did they drink coffee together in the kitchen every morning? Did they fall asleep in the sofa watching TV late at night? Did they invite friends over for Thanksgiving? Besides she didn’t have a plan B, this was her only shot.

Washington stared silently at her for a long moment. All Eliza could hear was the blood pumping in her ears. Eventually, he gave her a quick nod. The young woman let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding before she broke into a grin.

“Thank you sir! I promise I won’t let you down!”

She left his office before he could change his mind. She finally had something to do, a story to tell. Therefore she was ecstatic. Her brain switched into detective mode. First task on her list: finding John Laurens.

 

-

 

“Excuse me, are you John Laurens?”

John had been sitting at his desk in his dorm for some time now. His father had dropped him off earlier that day and had left with a formal handshake and a _“Make me proud son,”_ which had made John feel uneasy. He doubted he could match his father’s expectations. For the matter he doubted _anybody_ could match his father’s expectations. That thought was only mildly comforting, because he would still be the one facing the disappointment in the older man’s face. To distract himself from those thoughts, he had picked up his sketchpad and had started doodling. At the sound of his name, the young man with curly hair and countless freckles turned around to be faced with an African-American man with very broad shoulders and a bright smile.

“I’m Hercules Mulligan,” the man said. “We’ll be rooming together according to this thing.” He had the assignment sheets in his large hands. He stepped inside the small room they were going to share for the next year. It was small, especially compared to John’s old room in Charleston, but it was something completely out of his father’s reach. And that was the most important in his opinion.

“Nice to meet you,” John replied.

“So what are you studying?” Mulligan asked. “I’m majoring in fashion.”

_Unusual,_ John thought. Hercules seemed to be more fitted for kickboxing than tailoring though John had no doubt he could do both. Hercules’ arms seemed to be at the very least twice as big as his own. John made a mental note to never piss him off – better safe than sorry.

“Social work,” he said. “And minoring in marine biology.”

“That’s…” His new roommate started.

“Unusual?”

Hercules laughed loudly and John was quick to join him. Three hours in college and he already had a friend, he liked it here so far. His first impression of Hercules turned out to be only half true. Sure the guy was strong – he had a black belt in judo – and yet he was also the kindest person John had ever met. He reminded him of a giant teddy bear. A teddy bear with an impressive alcohol tolerance.

They met Lafayette within the first month of classes. The man was tall, even taller than Mulligan. His body was long and slim and he moved with an incredible ease and grace that was – according to him – due to his “damn great Frenchness”. To John, he looked more like a cat, elegant and classy with a great disposition for sleeping. Lafayette was an International Relations major. He had initially come to the U.S. for an exchange program in high school and came back the second he got his high school diploma. When he first saw Hercules’ designs, he announced that they would never get rid of him. The three of them became inseparable real fast. So quickly in fact that John had a hard time remembering how it was like without Laf singing French songs at random hour or trying to cook his fancy food in their old microwave. With his two best friends, John felt like he could finally be himself, something he never get to feel back home.

 

-

 

Eliza was sitting at her table in her living room. It was the middle of the afternoon and the sun was shining bright through the window. Eliza relished feeling the warmth on her skin. She opened her laptop and cracked her knuckles. She felt the familiar tingles in her fingertips and the excitement bubbling in her stomach. This was what she was born to do. On her notepad, she scribbled _John Laurens?_ before typing the name on the Google search bar. The name was common enough even when she reduced her search to the New York area. She scrolled the dozen faces on her screen, without any idea of how to determine which one of these men was the ‘John’ she was looking for. Frustrated, she added a few question marks next to the name on her notepad.

She sighed and got up. She went by the window where she liked to watch the traffic from time to time. She saw the old lady from the floor below hers coming out of the building all wrapped up in her fur coat. Some kids were passing by on their bike, almost collapsing with the mailman who was entering the building…

Eliza suddenly grabbed the letter and her keys on her table before running off the stairs at full speed. She got an odd look from the girl who was watching the baby for the newlywed couple. She only breathed a “Hi Sally!” before resuming her descent. Once on the first floor, she knocked at the building manager’s door.

“Miss Schuyler!” the man said.

“Nathanael, hi!” Eliza replied.

The man was smaller than her, in his late forties and some areas on his skull were starting to whiten. Yet his green eyes were alive with a spark of intelligence and kindness that made everyone feel at ease with him. That was something coming handy in his line of work.

“Can I help you?”

“Yes actually!” the young woman said. “Can I come in?”

Nathanael let her in. His apartment was smaller than hers but it was arranged in a very cozy way. She sat in the small kitchen while Nathanael was making some tea. She gratefully took the mug he gave her and took precautious sips. After a few minutes in silence, he finally asked. “So what can I help you with?”

Eliza took the envelope from her pocket.

“This arrived for the former tenant, John Laurens?”

“Oh yeah I remember him!” Nathanael smiled. “He and his boyfriend lived at your apartment for the last… six years I think?”

“Did they leave a forwarding address?” Eliza tried to mask the excitement in her voice.

“No,” Nathanael frowned. “I don’t know what happened but they left really fast. Up and gone suddenly.”

Eliza groaned internally. She was back to square one, well maybe not…

“Do you remember his boyfriend’s name?”

“Uh…” Nathanael answered, a bit surprised. “His name was Alex. I think I heard friends calling him ‘Ham’ once. But John’s name was the only one on the lease and on the mailbox.”

“Thank you Nathanael.”

-

 

“Thank you Nathanael,” John said with a smile.

“I’ll let you guys unpack. If you need anything, you know where I am.”

John shut the door and turn to see his boyfriend in awe at the window. It was late in the afternoon, the sun was going down in the New York sky. It was beautiful. John had always thought there was nothing like summer in the city. Slowly he made his way toward the other man. Alexander let out a content sigh when John embraced him from behind, his hands slowly resting on his waist.

“I’ve never had a view like this before,” Alexander confessed.

“Neither did I,” John smirked and started biting gently just below Alexander’s earlobe.

“I meant the skyline,” Alex chuckled but without making any sound of protest to John’s actions.

“Wait until you have to climb all those stairs everyday before saying the view is worth it!” John warned him. His hands slowly crept under the fabric of his boyfriend’s tee shirt. John’s hands were cold and Alex gasped when he felt them on his skin. He tilted his head backward so he could kiss the other man. For a few minutes, the apartment was only filled with the sound of their lips chasing each other’s and their breaths becoming a little erratic. When John’s hand found Alex’ nipples, the shorter man could not contain the moan that escaped his lips.

“Well,” Alex managed to say, panting. John’s grip on his body had tightened and he was looking at Alex with dark and hungry eyes. “I think I’ll like it here…”

John grinned and tugged him silently toward their bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I so hope you liked it! Keep feeding me with comments and kudos please! :) 
> 
> The title is from a poem by Jacques Prévert, French poet from the 20th century. It means 'In my house you will come,' and it's from a poem called "Dans ma maison" ("In my house") 
> 
> See you next week!


	3. Chapter two: « Tes yeux sont si profonds, que j’en perds la mémoire »

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eliza seeks her sister's help to find John and ends up meeting two interesting fellows.
> 
> Flashback to the first time John met Alex...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! So I am (most likely) going out of town this weekend for the celebrations of Mexican Independance (lucky me) sooo since I won't be back until Sunday, I posting the new chapter tonight! (Lucky you!) 
> 
> I just can't believe this story has now more than 500 hits... I just... have no words you have no idea of happy I am... <3 
> 
> So remember when I said I would be gushing about French poets? Buckle up kiddos! 
> 
> Louis Aragon lived during the 20th century. He was a poet, a writer, a journalist... He was close to the surrealist movement and a fervent member of the French communist party. During WWII, he was a member of the Resistance along with Paul Eluard and they wrote great poems about the period. Before the war, he married a Russian writer named Elsa Triolet who was his muse and his inspirations for many of his poems. After her death though, he became open about his attraction toward other men... Great guy :D 
> 
> Anyway, enjoy this chapter and see you next Friday!

Eliza kept searching for Alexander and John on her own for a couple of days. She tried to narrow down the Internet results again to the men between twenty and thirty. Yet nothing significant came up. She eventually decided it was time to use the big guns – well figuratively of course because she was all for gun control.

She arrived at City Hall at two in the afternoon, with a very expensive vanilla latte with just enough cinnamon in her hand.

“Eliza!” her sister exclaimed when she saw her. She stood up from her desk and enveloped her in a tight hug. Eliza put her arms around her while trying not to spill any of the hot beverage. Angelica released her and mentioned for her to sit in front of her. Angelica sat with elegance and assurance. Since they were little, Eliza had always seen something in the other woman’s eyes, a glint that make her commit into everything she did with passion. And that very same thing also made her look slightly terrifying. Not for the first time, Eliza pitied every person that she and her little sister would ever date. Nobody wanted to be on Angelica’s bad side, nobody. Her eyes softened when she saw the cup Eliza put on her desk.

“You’re flattering me,” she smirked. She took a long sip and closed her eyes for a second, reveling in the taste.

“I’m interested,” Eliza answered.

Angelica raised her eyebrows in surprise. “What can I do for you?”

Eliza took a long breath. “Promise not to laugh?”

Angelica only shot her an unimpressed look as a response.

“I’m trying to find someone,” Eliza started. “But all I have is a name and a former address.”

“And who is it that you’re looking for?” Angelica sounded way too gleeful for her taste.

“Relax Ang,” Eliza shook her head. “It’s for my new project.”

“You’re writing again?”

And that was why her sister was the most important person in her life. She had always supported her when she said she wanted to write, and now she was so happy to learn she’d found a new story and even more eager to help her.

“I am,” Eliza confirmed. “Well I will be very soon at least. With your help.”

Angelica grinned. “Tell me everything!”

Once Eliza was done, she looked at Angelica with pleading eyes. Angelica sighed but she was smiling nonetheless. “The things I do for you…”

 

-

 

“ _S’il te plaît John?”_ Lafayette begged. “Do it for me? Please?”

“Quit the puppy eyes, it won’t work!”

From where he was sitting on his bed, Hercules watched the exchange with amusement. Lafayette was trying to convince John to replace him for the welcoming visit of a transferred guy from King’s college. Laf was supposed to do it but he also had a group project to work on, which he could not cancel. Mulligan checked his watch, his friends have been bantering for a good fifteen minutes. Well it wouldn’t be long until John gave in – Laf was mastering in the puppy eyes.

“I swear John, it’s not gonna take long and it’s actually pretty nice!”

“I don’t know…” John sighed. He was sitting at his desk, his curls loosely tied up on his nape.

Hercules smirked, thirty seconds to go.

“Please?”

Nobody could resist Laf’s big brown eyes and certainly not John Laurens.

“The things I do for you Laf…” he groaned. Lafayette immediately got on his feet and pulled John in a bone-crushing hug and kissed him on both cheeks. Against his better judgment, John felt his annoyance at his friend melted. Damn the French. Damn them, their ridiculous names and their ability to make him do stuff he didn’t want to do!

So that’s how John found himself in the main hall on a Saturday morning, grumpy as hell. What kind of student transfers after the first semester of freshman year anyway? Little did he know that his world was about to be turned upside down.

When the guy arrived, John wasn’t sure if he wanted to kiss Lafayette or punch him. Because he was met with a sight he was _not_ ready for. The man in front of him was a few inches shorter than himself, his dark hair was tied in a ponytail but God his eyes were something to go to war for. John couldn’t quite name it, but he would happily drowned in those. When those eyes met his John felt a lurch in his stomach.

“Hi, I’m Alexander Hamilton,” he said.

They shook hands and when their skins connected, John had to suppress a shiver. _Get it together Laurens!_ He scolded himself. The visit was supposed to be short. John gave Alexander the basics on how to survive on campus while showing him the different buildings. The other man listened with intensity, like he was trying to commit very words out of John’s mouth into memory. However John quickly learned that Alexander was incapable of keeping his own mouth shut. The man literally had an opinion about everything and would voice it, even when nobody had asked him to. At first, John could only wonder how he could fit so many words in just one breath. But Alexander wasn’t the only one of them with beliefs. He was in a middle of a rant denouncing the Iraq war and insulting the NRA when John corrected him on one of his point. Alexander wasn’t wrong he had just mixed up two douchebags Republican senators. His eyes widened in shock and for a second, John was afraid that he had offended him. But then Alexander broke into a huge grin, he put his arms around John’s shoulders – and _oh_ John’s stomach did that thing again! – and said: “And you, are my new best friend!”

 _I’m so screwed,_ John thought.

 

-

 

Angelica Schuyler was a good sister. She would do everything for Eliza and Peggy – even if that meant choosing their happiness over her own. That didn’t mean she had to like it though. Especially when helping her dear sister required going to the Department of Finance. She hated that place. Well it wasn’t so different from any other departments in the building; no she hated it because of the two Jerks – capital J. In City Hall, she was working in the Department of Cultural Affairs and she loved it. Last year, she participated in a project that had allowed thousands of high school kids to go see a play at the theater for the first time. She loved her job because she made a difference.

A couple of years back, she met Thomas Jefferson at a staff party. The guy was smart, ambitious and just as witty as her. He too wanted to make a difference. The only thing was that he didn’t care if he had to sell his soul in the process. Once upon a time she and Jefferson were very close, enough to be considered good friends. Of course that was before Thomas became the arrogant brat smirking in front of her. She counted to ten in her head, trying to make her annoyance fade away. Wishful thinking. Well she could put on a brave face, for Eliza.

“Miss Schuyler,” the abomination of the human race began. “What a pleasure to see you down here!”

“Thomas,” she did her best not to sound too disgusted. “How sweet of you…”

“How can I be of assistance m’lady?” he asked, doing a ridiculous fake-bow he probably thought was cute.

From behind his desk where he was his usual silent self, James Madison coughed loudly. Angelica was never more grateful for that man’s asthma, or for the man in general to be honest.

“Can you look into something for me?” she said. “It’s not work-related, it’s for Eliza.”

“If it’s not work-related then we should not look into it!” Madison protested. Well Angelica knew his newfound grace would be short-lived.

“It won’t take long and it won’t get you in any trouble,” she explained patiently.

Jefferson shrugged.

She had to remind herself she was doing it for Eliza before she added, “Please?”

Madison sighed, knowing that Thomas would give her what she wanted eventually anyway. How he could still think he had a chance with Angelica was beyond him.

“What do you need?”

“If I give you a name and a former address, can you give me their current one from the tax report?” Angelica grinned.

“Yeah,” Madison answered.

“I can even give you all the places where that person was ever registered!” Thomas added, shooting Angelica his best seductive smile.

“Go back as far as you can,” she said figuring Eliza might want that information.

“I’ll email it to you during the day,” Jefferson said. “What’s the name?”

 

-

 

Eliza opened the email from her sister anxiously. Angelica had written, _“I had to support Tjeff’s gross attempts at flirting and Mads’ usual annoying self for you! I hope you’re satisfied!”_ Eliza grinned. Attached to the email was a file filled with legal documents, all with John Laurens’ name on them. She didn’t understand half of them, but she was only interested in the address at the top. Unfortunately, the most recent one was her apartment’s. Damn! Did he leave the city after the breakup? That did sound extreme but then again, the letter from Alexander suggested that the end was messy. She scrolled back to the previous addresses; half resigned already when she stopped. On her screen was a room attribution at NYU with two names on it. The first one was John’s obviously and the other was of one Hercules Mulligan. The document also contained additional information like their majors and pictures. Hercules was a Black man with a beanie and he seemed friendly enough. John had long, curly hair around his freckled face. Eliza looked at the picture for a long time, like it would suddenly begin to talk to her. Somehow all the time researching about him, she had failed to put a face on his name, not even in her imagination. So now that she was seeing it, it was a bit startling. She forced herself back to the task at hand. The name Hercules Mulligan could not be that common. It was worth a shot. She typed it on Google along with the name of the university and the guy’s major – fashion? interesting – and…

“Bingo!” she exclaimed. And if she started a little victory dance, nobody could judge her.

She was faced with a Facebook page whose profile picture matched the one she was looking for. Hercules had a huge smile on his face, a measuring tape around his neck and a pair of scissors in his hand. She looked at the information and discovered that Hercules owned his own tailoring shop. _I’m back in the game,_ she thought with a smile.

The next day Eliza was entering Mulligan’s shop near lunchtime. It was the beginning of February and the temperature was very low and the streets were slippery. The shop was mostly empty except for a man dressed in a colorful suit who was focused on his phone. She made her way to the counter.

“Can I help you?”

“Are you Hercules Mulligan?” she asked, even though she already knew the answer.

“The one and only,” Mulligan confirmed.

“My name is Elizabeth Schuyler,” she started. “I was hoping to ask you some questions about your college roommate. John Laurens?”

The man on his phone looked up from it suddenly. “Why?” he asked not bothering to mask his animosity.

“Laf!” Mulligan intervened before Eliza could answer. “Calm down!”

“I live at his old place,” Eliza explained. “I received a letter for him, I opened it without meaning to. It’s from his ex-boyfriend, I think?”

Laf – what that his real name? – and Mulligan exchanged a look. Eliza knew that kind of look. She shared her fair share with her sisters, when they didn’t need words to communicate. Both men seemed at loss, not knowing how to react to the news. Eventually Hercules was the one who broke the silence:

“Alex has written to him?”

 

-

 

“You’ve got another letter!” Hercules announced once he crossed the threshold of their dorm. John immediately abandoned whatever he was doing on his laptop and rushed to him to get the envelope. Like every other, it was noticeably thick.

“I don’t know why he bothers to pay for the stamps and the ink and paper when he could just text you! You guys literally live two buildings away from each other!” Hercules sighed. Since John and Alex had gotten together, the latter had turned into a modern version of Madame de Sévigné. Ok Lafayette was the one who had given him the reference but he had to admit it was pretty accurate. Well Laf had first mentioned _Les Liaisons Dangereuses_ but Herc had seen that movie and had forbidden Laf to make that comparison ever again.

Laf had found it cute that he would get so flustered, “Americans,” he’d sighed.

“That’s the reason you’re still single,” John answered distractedly. His entire attention was dedicated to the curves of ink on the paper. His boyfriend had a way with words and he more often than not, he would write those beautiful letters to John – borderline poetic and sometimes very graphic. John felt so privileged that Alex chose to dedicate some of his time to write him. He traced the letters with the tips of his fingers, smiling dreamingly.

_“_ _Cold in my professions, warm in my friendships, I wish, my Dear Laurens, it might be in my power, by action rather than words to convince you that I love you. I shall only tell you that 'til you bade us Adieu, I hardly knew the value you had taught my heart to set upon you. Indeed, my friend, it was not well done. You know the opinion I entertain of mankind, and how much it is my desire to preserve myself free from particular attachments, and to keep my happiness independent of the caprice of others. You should not have taken advantage of my sensibility to steal into my affections without my consent. But as you have done it, and as we are generally indulgent to those we love, I shall not scruple to pardon the fraud you have committed, on condition that for my sake, if not for your own, you will always continue to merit the partiality, which you have artfully instilled into me.”_

From his desk, Hercules watched John falling in love with Alexander all over again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I didn't put a timeline but to be clear: Eliza received the letter from Alex in January 2016 and the flashback meeting takes place in January 2006 (Hence the reference to the Iraqi war!) 
> 
> And if you don't know this, Madame de Sévigné was a French aristocrat who wrote countless letters to her daughter when she left the court after her wedding... They're funny and loving and beautiful and a great source of knowlegde of the period! As for Les Liaisons Dangereuses, it's an epistolary novel by Laclos and the letters are... more explicit than those of a mother to her child! The play will actually open on Broadway very soon and there's also a movie adaptation! (But the novel is good, trust me!) 
> 
> The title comes from a poem called "Les yeux d'Elsa" (Elsa's eyes) and means "Your eyes are so deep that I lose my memory" 
> 
> If you wanna listen to it, a French singer called Jean Ferrat put music to it here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FP9WLvZhL5Y (Somebody tells me how to link please!) 
> 
> Reach me on Tumblr! @i-dreamthedream !


	4. Chapter three: « Les jours s’en vont je demeure »

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eliza get a glimpse of John and Alex's whereabouts thanks to Laf and Herc. Burr on the other hand is slightly less cooperative.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys :) 
> 
> First of all: HOLY SHIT THIS HAS MORE THAN 100 KUDOS YOU GUYS ARE AMAZING AND I LOVE YOU ALL WITH ALL MY HEART!!! 
> 
> So funny story: I've been in Mexico for almost two months now and I thought my stomach could handle the local food. BUT giving that I am currently in my bed, sick for the third or fourth times since I'm here, I'd say: not so much --' 
> 
> So be kind my friend as I am too tired to properly proofread this chapter! Tell me if you spot any mistakes! 
> 
> Oh and here's another cool poet! Guillaume Apollinaire totally deconstructed the verse, he wrote poems that were also drawings! Check out his 'Calligrammes', they're great! He fought in the French troops during WWI, as a volunteer since he was not a French citizen. He was hit at the head and had to leave the army. He got married in 1919 (not sure about the date, but again, too tired to check) and died of the Spanish flu only a few weeks later :( Poem is called 'Le pont Mirabeau' (Mirabeau's bridge) and title means 'The days go by and I stay here' 
> 
> That being said, enjoy!

Hercules and Lafayette – who had insisted it was the easiest way to call him – invited Eliza to join them for lunch so they could discuss. The three of them ended up in a small Thai restaurant only three blocks away from the tailoring shop. They made idly conversation, none of them really sure of how to approach the subject.

“So,” Eliza started, unsure. “You guys don’t know where John is?”

Lafayette shook his head, “Not exactly.”

Eliza raised her eyebrows, curious.

“When he and Alex broke up, it was a mess,” now that he was talking at a slower pace, Eliza noticed his accent, French no doubt. Coming to think about it, that would also be a satisfying explanation to how he could put up with that suit with elegance and how he could eat his pad Thai so gracefully while Hercules was struggling with his chopsticks. “And John decided he needed fresh air, so he left. That was last October.” The French man finished.

“He left? He left five months ago?” Eliza repeated, incredulous.

“Off to Europe,” Hercules added. “I’m afraid it’ll cost you to send him the letter.”

“Damn it!” Eliza groaned.

“ _Mademoiselle,_ may I ask why you seem to care so much? You don’t know either of them.”

Eliza hesitated but decided to go for the truth since she was a very bad liar anyway. Both of them tensed when she revealed that she was a novelist and that the letter was her inspiration for her next book. But Eliza was nothing but kind and she patiently explained that she didn’t mean to snoop or do any harm to their friends. She was just interested in their story and she wanted to tell it right. Lafayette softened. That girl was so sweet; it was impossible not to love her.

“How long were they together?” she asked.

“Well it was during our junior year at NYU, _pas vrai ?”_

Hercules nodded.

“Until last September, which makes it seven years…”

“That’s a long time,” Eliza commented. “So why did they break up?”

“We’re not sure,” Hercules sighed. “I mean those two were so in love it was disgusting, trust me on that!”

Lafayette snorted. “Just be happy you weren’t there on that camping trip to Valley Forge, I still have nightmares!” he grumbled.

“And they never fought! I mean they were in a relationship so of course they were disagreements and petty fights but still…”

“ _C’est vrai,”_ the French man intervened. “From day one – even before they got together – they were attached by the hip. And I mean they were best friends, they were just so close, so in synch, the kind of couple that makes you wanna believe in fairytales! So when we learned that they had broken up, we simply did not believe it.”

“But they didn’t give you a reason?”

“Well I think _le petit lion_ said something about mistakes that were made and wanting different things, which was obviously bullshit but he refused to say more.”

“I suppose I’ll have to ask him,” Eliza murmured.

“Well the thing is it’ll be hard for you to speak to your primary sources.” Laf said. He had finished his dish and was now sipping his wine.

“Why? Where is Alexander?”

“No idea!” Hercules exclaimed, bitter. “When John left, he lost it. Now he’s hiding somewhere and Burr refuses to tell us where!” he slammed his fist on the table, spilling some sauce on the tablecloth.

“Burr?” Eliza was lost. How many people were involved in this mess?

“Aaron Burr,” Lafayette patiently explained. “He and Alex had this weird rivalry/friendship relationship in college. They both went to law school – Alex in Columbia and Burr in Princeton – and once they graduated, they opened their own firm.”

“Really? Right after graduation?”

“Burr had the means and the family reputation,” Lafayette shrugged. “And they both knew that even if more than half of the time they want to kill each other, together they are basically unstoppable.”

“So this guy is the only one who knows where Alexander is?”

The two men nodded.

“Where can I find him?” Eliza asked, determined.

This was how two days later, she found herself ringing the interphone of a large building on Mercer Street. Hercules and Lafayette had given her the address and had told her to call them if she learnt anything new or if by some miracle, Burr revealed where Alexander was.

_“Burr and Hamilton, attorneys at law!”_ said a voice in singsong.

“I am Elizabeth Schuyler, I have an appointment with Mr. Burr,” she answered.

_“Third floor!”_

The door opened, letting Eliza in. The third floor could be described as an organized chaos. The secretary waved at her distractedly while answering a call and searching something inside one if the massive binders in front of her. Behind her desk, Eliza could make out movements of coming and going from the different offices. A young woman, probably an intern passed through the hall carrying the equivalent of half of the Amazonian Forest in photocopies. It was impressive, truly. The secretary finally ended her call and turned toward her.

“Follow me!” Despite being obviously overwhelmed with work, she was totally polite and smiling. She led Eliza to the last office to the right and knocked twice softly. A muffle sound that might have been “come in!” answered. The woman opened the door, “Miss Elizabeth Schuyler is here for you, Mr. Burr,” she said.

“Thank you,” replied the man behind a large wooden desk. He was taller than her, his body was slender and his handshake firm.

“I’m sorry for the state of the office,” he said. “But we’re a bit… understaffed at the moment.”

“No problem.”

He smiled to Eliza, bright teeth contrasting with his dark skin and gestured for her to take a seat. She noticed the bags under his eyes while she did so.

“So,” he began. “You told Kitty on the phone that you wanted to meet me to reveal the reason you’re here?”

“That is because the reason why I’m here isn’t a legal matter,” Eliza answered softly.

“I’m not sure I follow you,” Burr frowned. He had taken a pen from he desk and started to methodically put the cap on and off.

“I would like to speak with Alexander Hamilton,” Eliza decided to be blunt. From what she had gathered from Mulligan and Lafayette, Burr was the type of person who would tiptoe around an issue, trying to say the minimum as to not compromise himself. So blunt honesty was probably her best option here if she wanted some results.

His hands stilled, one holding the pen and the other the cap.

“Mr. Hamilton had to take some time away from the office I’m afraid,” his tone was perfectly even but his stare was cold. Eliza felt herself shrink in her seat. The only other person she knew who could be so intimidating with just one look was Angelica, and Angelica never directed her death stare at her.

“I understand that you’re the only person who knows where he is,” she said, determined to get some answers out of him. Maybe if he was angry, he might let some things slipped.

“Who told you that?”

“His friends, Hercules Mulligan and Lafayette.”

“Even if that’s true,” and Eliza could see that he was making a real effort to stay composed. “Why would I tell you when his closest friends are left in the dark? Who are you?”

“I…” Eliza stammered. Figuring telling him about the book wouldn’t help her case, she settled for a half-lie. “I want to talk to him about John Laurens…”

This time Burr’s glare turned furious. “You want to talk to him about his Achilles’ heel while he’s already at his worst? And you think I’d let you?”

He barked into a joyless laugh. “You see Mulligan and Lafayette think I’m the worst. But the truth is despite all our differences Alexander and I are friends. He trusts me now when he doesn’t even trust himself. And I will not betray his trust, not for them and not for you! So if there’s nothing else I can help you with, I’ll have to ask you to leave my office, I have a lot of work.”

He had stood up at some point during his rant and his knuckles were white from how hard his grip on the pen and cap was. His whole body was vibrating with anger. Eliza knew better than to argue and wordlessly left the office.

Once the door was close Aaron fell back on his chair, feeling exhaustion in his bones that had nothing to do with how much he had been working. There was so much on his mind, so much feelings, so much anger. God was that how Hamilton feel all the time? No wonder the guy was a mess now, you can only go non-stop for so long before you hit a wall. Laurens had kept him together for years, taking care of him both physically and emotionally. Now that he was gone, Hamilton had lost his crutch. Burr sighed, getting Alexander back on his feet would be hard, would take time. Good thing he was always the most patient of the two, he was going to need it.

 

-

 

“I still think _Hamilton and Burr_ sounded better,” Alexander pouted. Behind him, Hercules and Laf valiantly tried to hide their laughter while John only rolled his eyes.

“ _Cariño_ , you both agreed to put the names in alphabetical order,” he said patiently.

“Still,” his boyfriend grumbled. He was not really bitter though, because as much as it pained him to admit it, he knew he wouldn’t be there without Burr. He looked at the large space in the hall, at the brand new furniture, at the plaque with his name on it on the last door to the left and he felt pride filled his chest. Without really meaning to, he broke into a grin. John who knew him way too well squeezed his hand, wait were there holding hands this whole time? Well maybe then Alex could lure John into his office – the idea of having John right there on his very expensive desk was a really tempting one. Hercules and Laf would tease them mercilessly but then again, it’s not like he hadn’t caught Gilbert in a few embarrassing situations before so it wouldn’t be too bad. Before Alexander could act on that thought tough the elevator opened to reveal the one and only “Aaron Burr, Sir!”

“Alexander,” he replied with a mixture of annoyance and fondness in his eyes. “Ready to start?”

“Please, I was born ready!”

John sighed. His boyfriend was such a show-off. It was a good thing Burr never picked on his bullshit. The two made a better team than anyone would ever expect them to. Alexander had more passion in his eyes than Burr had in his entire body. Their differences had made them at odds when they met. Both of them were so proud, unable to admit the other might not be completely wrong. On their last year in NYU one teacher, tired of their antics had forced them to do an assignment together. With no other choice but to oblige, the two had joined forces on the Levi Weeks case. It had almost destroyed their sanity and Alexander had to restrain himself to not resort to violence but at the end, they’d handed a better work than anything they could have done on their own. By Alexander’s own opinion, Burr was better than him in court: succinct and persuasive where Alex would appear too brash. So their friendship was unconventional to say the least and most of the time incomprehensible for anyone who wasn’t their significant other.

Theodosia and Aaron were always very discreet, probably because of the fact that she was engaged to someone else the first time they met. Alex really liked Theo, she had the ability to make Burr smile, which Alex considered to be her superpower. John would not exactly say that he and Burr were friends but they had an unspoken agreement regarding Alex. Every time the man would lose himself in a case (and that happened quite frequently), Burr would call John. And every time, John would go to his boyfriend’s office to give him what he needed. He would either sit in silence until Alex looked up from his laptop and noticed him, listen to him rant about how the adverse party were full of shits or hold him as Alexander shook like a leaf because he felt helpless.

John was Alexander’s anchor, his beacon in the world, the reason why he fought so hard. He wanted to build a word where he and John – and hopefully the family they would have together – would be safe and proud. A world where nobody listened to homophobic douchebags, let alone _vote for them_ and where no father put their child through what Henry Laurens thought was a “proper Southern education.” John had given Alexander purpose, something to care and to fight for but more importantly a reason to take care of himself.

Alex was not stupid; he knew that the events of his childhood had permanently damaged his mind. He knew that a part of him would always want to do more, to _be_ more so that he could prove to everybody else that he mattered. Before he met his friends in college, his habits were unhealthy at best and self-destructive more often than not. With them – John, Laf, Herc, even freaking Aaron Burr! – he had learnt to take a break. Laf had always made sure that Hamilton ate properly – force-feeding him his damn pastries if it needed. Hercules had set up his computer so it would turn off at two in the morning and turn back on at six so he had no choice but to go to bed. John was the only one who could convince Alex to report whatever he was working on during weekends to go on a walk in Central Park together.

Once they started dating and Alex had felt confortable enough to tell John about his past, John had made his mission to prove Alexander that he was loved. His inbox was filled with selfies and photographs of their time together. He left post-its on Alexander’s desk and on the fridge, which read stuff like _“You’re brilliant, knock ’em dead”_ or _“Your boyfriend is taking you to an awesome date tonight <3” _and even a memorable _“Nice butt!”_ once. John would also never miss an opportunity to be physically affectionate. That was how, with a kiss on the cheek, a head on his shoulder and a hand in his that Alexander started to believe that John wasn’t going anywhere and that he could start building a home for the two of them. Point was, Alexander would always be passionate about his job – and about everything to be honest – but thanks to John, he would no longer kill himself trying to make a change. Without John, Alex would have let himself die of exhaustion a long time ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment or come talk to me on Tumblr!! You'd make a sick girl very happy! :) 
> 
> Tell me if you need the translation for the French sentences... 
> 
> Next chapter is the longest and the cutest! 
> 
> See you next Friday! <3


	5. Chapter four: « L’amour fait songer, vivre et croire »

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Alex do some serious pinning! 
> 
> Night out with the Schuylers!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys :) Thanks for everyone who sent messages for my health last week, I needed it! I'm much better now (one fun trip to the ER later) In fact I finished last night (or very early this morning) another Lams project I've been working on so be on the look out, I think I'll finish the editing very soon :D 
> 
> Thanks again for all the comments and kudos and Tumblr message, those are the best! 
> 
> Title means 'Love makes you dream, live and beleive' it's from a poem called 'Aimons toujours, aimons encore' (Let's love always, let's love still') by Victor Hugo. I won't give you a small biography because the guy was a freaking genius and had lived a dozen lives in one! So if you didn't know, just be grateful because without him we wouldn't have Les Mis <3
> 
> Enjoy!

Being in love with your best friend is simultaneously the easiest and the hardest thing in the world. The fact that John’s best friend is Alexander Hamilton was not helping him at all though. Alex had made his way into his group of friends the same way Laf first did: like it was the most natural thing in the world. He and Hercules spent endless hours playing video games in Herc and John’s dorm. Both of them being incredible competitive shits, John had had to confiscate the X-Box on more than one occasion. Lafayette literally squeaked when he discovered that Alex was fluent in French and the two had made their mission to make Hercules miserable by speaking rapid French and making faces whenever he was around. Most of the time, John’s high school posh education in a South Carolinian boarding school allowed him to understand what was being said. Yet some times he just remained clueless and he found himself way more understanding of Hercules’ frustration.

Alexander was brilliant, John had known that since their first encounter. What he was discovering however was that he was also non-stop. The guy was double majoring in PoliSci and Economics, took more extra credits than necessary just because he was interested in the subjects and somehow found the time to be active in half a dozen clubs on campus. Being his friend meant that life was never boring. Since he knew the guy, John had spent countless nights texting back and forth with Hamilton until sunrise and had found himself in even more bar fights than he was used to.

So in the end, it wasn’t _that_ surprising that John fell in love with Alexander. And he supposed he was already halfway there when he actually realized it. It was a Sunday night, the last day of Thanksgiving break. They were in their second year in NYU and Alex was now an official member of the revolutionary set. They were all gathered in John and Hercules’ dorm, enjoying their last evening before the madness of classes and exams would crush them. Alexander, Lafayette and Hercules were engaging in _another_ game of whatever on the X-Box and John was watching them fondly from where he was sitting on his bed, sketching. He didn’t exactly get what had happened but suddenly Herc and Laf groaned loudly while Alex jumped on his feet and began a victory dance. John had to bit his cheeks to provide himself from bursting into laughter. It was just too cute! Also _damn_ the guy could move his hips!

 _“C’est pas juste !”_ Laf whined, glaring at the shorter man, who only stuck out his tongue at him.

 _“Ne sois pas mauvais joueur Laf,”_ he replied.

“Enough! No more speaking in that God forsaken language!” Hercules was bitter and all the French was doing nothing for his bad mood.

“As you wish,” Alex shrugged. He let himself fall into the bed next to John. “Congratulate me, my dear Laurens, since those two won’t admit they’ve found their master!”

John could only laugh at that and settled for ruffling Alexander’s hair fondly.

“Don’t congratulate him John, he cheated!” Lafayette intervened.

“I did _not!_ ”

“Yeah you did!” Hercules said. “There’s no way you could’ve beaten us three times in a row!”

Alex shot him an unimpressed look – which was kinda ruined by the fact that his hair was a mess – and said: “Forty-two.”

John burst into giggles, both from the reference and from the incredulous looks on his friends’ faces. Later, he would blame the fact that he was coming back from South Carolina where there hadn’t had many opportunities to have fun for the way he laughed for five minutes straight, borderline hysterical. When he calmed down, Herc and Laf seemed a little worried when Alex just looked amused and even a little proud.

“Sorry,” he said, voice a little rough, “that was funny…”

“Care to explain where this comes from?” Mulligan asked.

“Douglas Adams,” Alexander answered simply.

John suddenly stared at his best friend. A few weeks prior, John had mentioned to him that Hercules and Lafayette loved to call him a nerd because of his love for Sci-Fi and Fantasy literature. Alex had admitted that he had read pretty much nothing on the subject, preferring essays and philosophy to novels. But he’d just referenced it! He just referenced _The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy_! That meant he had read it because Alex would never reference something without the full knowledge it extended. He had read what John was pretty sure he had said was his favorite book of all times. Alexander read John’s favorite book. He read it _for him?_

The idea sent warmth all over John’s body, making his toes curled. He suddenly felt an irrepressible need to wrap his arms around Alex and hug him tight and hold him through the night and kiss him deep and… _Oh shit!_

John had thought the infatuation he had felt the first time he met Alex had died down as the two became friends. But it hadn’t. Instead it had made itself at home in his chest and had slowly evolved into something way more profound, way more dangerous. John Laurens was utterly, madly, irrevocably in love with Alexander Hamilton.

 

-

 

Eliza needed a break. She didn’t realize how much her researches had been time consuming. After hitting a dead end with Burr, she had started going to NYU so she could describe it correctly when the time would come. Still it had been more than a month since the letter arrived and she needed to think of something that wasn’t Alexander Hamilton and John Laurens for one night. Fortunately she knew just who to call.

Peggy told her to meet up at a bar in Brooklyn and that Angelica would be joining them. The three sisters ordered their cocktails and chatted idly making sure not to mention the novel. Eliza was enjoying herself. She loved listening to her little sister telling stories. Peggy had a way to make you laugh and she always seemed to be smiling. Angelica was watching her fondly. When Peggy mentioned her new cute coworker, Eliza chuckled as Angelica struggled to contain her motherhening instincts. Peggy went to the bar to get more drinks and Eliza was surprised to find Angelica beaming at her phone. _Interesting._

“Dear little sister,” she said once Peggy was back. “I think our dear Angie has a special someone on the side she has yet to mention!”

“Is that so?” Peggy raised an eyebrow as Angelica blushed furiously despite her skin complexion.

“What are you trying to hide sis?” Eliza asked.

“I hate you,” was Angelica’s respond before she gulped down her drink in one go. “His name is John Church,” she said after a beat. “And I didn’t tell you because he is not exactly Dad’s style and I don’t know what to do about it…”

“I see,” Peggy said. “Well just elope to Vegas then, Dad can’t do anything if you’re already married.”

Angelica shot her a glare that said _“Not helping”_ but the corner of her mouth quirked up so Eliza figured she wasn’t really mad. They were nursing their second drinks – well third for Angie – when two familiar figures walked into the bar. One of them was a tall man in a pink suit and the other was broad with a beanie. _Well,_ Eliza thought, _so much for a night off._

“Do you know them?” Peggy asked.

She nodded and explained who they were to her sisters.

“They kinda remind me of Jefferson and Madison,” Angelica stated. “Man I should really stop drinking!” The three of them laughed. The only thing was Peggy wasn’t the kind of person who laughed quietly. Her high-pitched giggle had half of the bar looking to their direction, including Mulligan and Lafayette. Eliza waved at them, a little awkwardly and gestured for them to join the table if they wanted to. After a second of hesitation, the two introduced themselves to Peggy and Angelica. Laf was using the French charm card, calling them _“Mesdemoiselles”_ and kissing the back of their hands instead of shaking them.

Surprisingly enough, conversation flowed easily between them. Peggy was fascinated by Hercules’ designs that he was showing her on his phone and Laf and Angelica were engaged in an intense discussion on Laf’s new responsibility in the French Consulate. Eliza caught a few looks Hercules sent in her direction but she shook her head, preferring not to relate her encounter with Burr in front of her sisters.

Time flew by and a little after midnight, Angelica stated it was time she came home. She offered Peggy a ride, which she accepted. She extended her invite to Eliza but she declined, stating she would stay a little longer. She hugged both her sisters and rolled her eyes when Laf planted a kiss on both cheeks to each girl as a good night.

“So,” Hercules said once they were gone. “I take it you haven’t found Alex?”

Eliza shook her head. “Burr was not very receptive,” she said bitterly.

 _“C’est le moins qu’on puisse dire_ _,”_ Laf agreed. His tendency to speak French was proportionated with the number of drinks he had. “But at least we know someone is looking after _le petit lion._ We can’t say the same for John…”

“John’s gonna be okay,” Hercules interjected. “He’s saving the world one person at the time!”

“What do you mean?” Eliza asked.

“John used to work at a non-profit,” Hercules explained. “The type that saves the baby turtle and cleans the beach after an oil slick and fights against the sea transport companies. But he resigned when he left. Now he’s working to help the refugees who try to cross the Mediterranean. Said that would make him feel useful.”

“And you haven’t heard from him either?”

 _“Non, pas depuis des semaines_ _._ He blames the time difference rather than admit he doesn’t want us to know he’s not doing well. Still not over each other after six months…”

“That’s a lot of emotions,” Eliza commented. Before she could stop herself she added. “How were they?”

“What do you mean?”

“As a couple… how were they?”

Laf snorted, _“_ _Insupportables_ _!_ But,” and he suddenly seemed to sober up. “Is this the novelist asking or?”

“I’m genuinely curious,” Eliza answered. “It’s what makes me a good writer.”

Hercules laughed. He liked this girl. She was both strong-willed and kind. It was a rare combination.

“Well, they _were_ insufferable that is true,” he said. “And also completely ridiculous!”

_“J’approuve !”_

“Remember when Alex finally had the guts to ask John out?”

 _“Oh que oui !”_ Lafayette laughed.

“Why? What did he do?”

 _“Oh ça Mademoiselle Schuyler,”_ Laf grinned, _“c’est une histoire qui vaut la peine d’être racontée !”_

 

-

 

Alexander was in love with John. It had hit him at lunch when he realized he had been zoning out, focusing his attention on the right corner of John’s lips. Okay so maybe he had really liked the Peter Pan movie they had seen the week before and maybe he had found the idea of a hidden kiss very poetic. And if he was honest with himself, he had to admit that for the past weeks he’d been thinking about John on a very regular basis and not in a strictly friendly or platonic way. So there he was, staring at his best friend’s mouth and fighting every instincts that were telling him to just go for it. One because he didn’t want his and John’s first kiss to taste like his sandwich salami, that was pretty gross; two because he had no idea of what to do with the fact that he didn’t _just_ wanted to kiss John. Sure right then he also wanted to take him to bed and discover just how many freckles he could kiss on the other man’s skin, but that wasn’t it.

Alexander wasn’t good at relationships he knew that. Hell the whole university knew that! The whole Lewis/Reynolds debacle was still fresh in his memory even though the blow had softened since it was almost six months before. And sure sharing with the entire web how he and Maria were sleeping together while she was dating her boyfriend – said boyfriend who tried to extort him and ended up hitting him – was probably not his smartest decision. The only good thing that came out of it was that Maria was finally free from that jerk. At least none of his friends judged him for that. They even defended him and took a couple of punches defending his honor! He seriously didn’t deserve so good people in his life.

During all this time, John stood by him. He came to his dorm – Adams was almost never there anyway, the guy was always coming home to Massachusetts – and made sure Alex stayed away from the comments of his blog post and from Twitter. They usually laid side by side on Alexander’s bed, binge watching _Brooklyn Nine-Nine_ or any musical Alex would indulge. More than once, Alex found himself dozing off on his best friend’s shoulder.

So it wasn’t love at first sight, it wasn’t just lust, it wasn’t a crush. It was a pull Alex could feel every time the two were together or talking, it was how he would feel warm all over each time their skin were in contact, it was the quiet domesticity of writing an essay while watching John reread _Harry Potter_ an hundredth time “for scientific purposes” on a Sunday afternoon.

Alex had no idea of how to be someone’s boyfriend but for John, he would be anything. Knowing full well that John Laurens deserved the moon and more, Alex decided that a grand romantic gesture would be a perfect way to ask John to be his boyfriend. John was a fan of romantic comedies – even if the nerd would never admit it – and so Alex put his whole self into action.

He asked Lafayette for advice, resident expert in Disney movies and everything extravagant. The French man had grinned and started plotting something cheesier than any Nicholas Sparks movie. Alexander managed to convince him that he didn’t need the balloons nor did he need the violins’ quartet. Laf reluctantly agreed to keep it simple, or as simple as he could manage. So he helped Alexander set up Hercules and John’s dorm. Obviously, Alex also had to confess his feelings to Hercules to convince him to leave them alone for the night and with any luck, for the next morning. Herc had agreed on the condition that his bed wouldn’t be involved in any shenanigans.

The good thing was that Alex and Laf didn’t have class on Friday afternoons whereas John had his weekly visit to the aquarium. That meant Alex had plenty of time to clean the dorm and change the sheets – and his hands were _not_ shaking doing so, thank you – while Lafayette was minding the food. Then he set up the table, put the matches next to the candles so that Alex could light them up easily and opened the wine bottle. Alex had gasped when he saw the price but Laf had shrugged him off, saying he could repay him by making him the best man at the wedding. Alexander had laughed albeit a little strangled. Nerves were starting to eat him. What was he doing? What this even a good idea?

Before he could dwell on that thought, Lafayette left. He gave him instructions for the food: put it out of the oven in ten minutes and letting it cool off at least another twenty before eating. Alexander nodded. Laf had also picked him an outfit – his best pair of slacks and a nice blue shirt. He put it on quickly and shoved his dirty clothes in his backpack. He checked the time; John wouldn’t be there for at least the next fifteen minutes. Unable to stay still, he started pacing around the small space, rehearsing his speech in his head. He tried really hard not to imagine what would happen if John didn’t want him that way. Would he lose the closest friend he had over this? Was it worth the risk?

Fortunately his phones chimed in with a few Twitter notifications. Figuring that an Internet feud would be as good distraction as any, he sat at the table and started doing what he did best: arguing. He was in a middle of a twenty-tweets-long rant when the smell of burn hit him. He got up, suddenly realizing the kitchen timer had gone off a good ten minutes earlier. He rushed to the oven to retrieve it knocking down the wine bottle by doing so. He cursed. And since the Gods definitely hated him, John walked in at that very moment.

“Alex?” he asked. “What’s going on?”

“Shit,” Alexander cursed again, panicking. “It wasn’t supposed to go this way…”

“What is that?” he motioned for the burnt food and the red stain on Alex’s shirt.

“Uh,” Alex said in a quiet voice. “Well Laf made the food and picked up the wine because I’m a shitty cook and I don’t have a delicate palate… And I only succeeded to ruin it… I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” John answered fondly. And ok that wasn’t fair, how could he be so perfect even when Alex had screwed up? “It’s not like I’m a big fan of red wine anyway and I’m pretty sure I can pull off a decent Mac’n Cheese with what’s in the fridge. You should change though,” he touched the red spot on Alex’s chest and _please Lord, he must be able to feel his heart beating faster right?_

Alex nodded. He took his shirt off and put on a red hoodie that belonged to John so the sleeves were a bit too long for him. He came back to the kitchen, John had pulled out two Sam Adams out of the fridge and was making his Mac and Cheese with dedication. They stayed in companionable silence during the cooking process and then retrieved on John’s bed to eat, table and candles forgotten. Alex was engaging in a battle with himself, should he still go through with it? The universe had been sending pretty big signs, maybe it was just not meant to be.

“What was it all for anyway?” John asked. “The expensive wine, the fancy food, the dress-up shirt… I’m not complaining, just… Are we celebrating something?”

“I just,” Alex pounded his next words carefully, “wanted to do something nice for you.”

John answered him with a bright smile, so open, so sincere that Alex momentarily stopped breathing. He gave him a congested smile on his own and pretended to dispose of their plates to leave the bed. He needed to tell him, all that proximity would never be enough, he needed John closer. It should terrify him, how much he wanted John when he had always purposely avoid any permanent features in his life since he left Nevis. People come and go. People left and getting attached only mean you can get hurt. But John was different, John was always his exception.

He went back to the bedroom where John was setting up the computer so they could watch a movie. He looked up and noticed the strange expression on Alexander’s face.

“You’re ok? You’ve been awfully quiet all night…”

Alex sighed. _Now or never._ “Actually, can I talk to you about something?”

“Of course!” John put the laptop aside. He sat a little straighter on the bed and patted the empty space in front of him. Alex sat down slowly, his eyes focus on John.

“So,” he began. “I’m not sure how to say this. I mean I had the whole evening planned out with the food and the wine and the candles and I had a speech but now I’m not sure where to start…”

John was still watching him with an encouraging expression on his face and for a second, Alex thought he’d seen a flicker of hope in his eyes. He took a deep breath.

“I wanted to do something special for you because I realized recently that… you are very special to me John Laurens.” His voice flattered a little. John’s eyes had widened. _Just get it over with Hamilton!_

“I care about you John, very much. And I probably stopped feeling just friendship toward you a while ago and it took me some time to actually figure it out but well here we are!” He laughed nervously. “So this is me, telling you that I like you and that I’d like to date you and I know I’m probably don’t scream ‘boyfriend material’ to you because I’m kind of a mess and I’ve fucked up in the past but… please John give me a chance, I promise I can make you happy if you let me!”

He closed his mouth and waited. Only John didn’t reply, he simply kept staring at him, stunned for some long excruciating minutes.

“John? Please say something…” Alex said desperately.

“You’re an idiot,” the other man finally breathed.

“What?”

“You’re an idiot!” John repeated louder but he couldn’t quite contain the grin on his lips. “I’ve literally be pining over you for the last two years and you don’t think you’re ‘boyfriend material’ to me? Are you kidding?”

“What? Two years…” Alex was having a problem processing this new information. “But John we _met_ two years ago!”

“Don’t remind me,” John said. “It’s a bit embarrassing!”

Alex shook his head. He gently put his hand over John’s on the bed. They had leaned toward one another at some point but none of them dared to close the distance just yet. John looked down at their joined hands and beamed.

“So what happens now?” he murmured.

Alex slowly used his other hand to brush away one of John’s curls and bring the other man’s face close to his in a kiss. It was slow and sweet and Alex felt every cell in his body come to life. John opened his mouth and when their tongue met, it was like fireworks. Alex wanted to stay in that moment forever. He wanted to keep discovering how it felt to have John’s hand on his back, urging him closer. He wanted to revel in the sensation of John’s skin on his. He wanted John to keep smiling against his mouth and memorize the curve of his cupid bow. They parted eventually. Alex felt dizzy in a way the alcohol never made him. They stayed like that, foreheads touching and still holding hands. John’s eyes were now twinkling with not only hope but also happiness and something Alex didn’t dare to call love yet.

“Finally,” John whispered.

Alex chuckled. He was honestly surprised not to find himself floating. He dived in for another kiss, finding that kissing John was already becoming addictive. They laid side by side on John’s bed. It was small so their bodies were pressed next to each other but neither seemed particularly bothered. John wrapped his arms around Alexander and pulled him close. Alexander rested his head in the crook of John’s shoulder, trying to capture his scent. “This is nice,” he eventually said.

John hummed. “I’m sorry tonight didn’t go according to your plans.”

Alex snorted, “Don’t be, this is perfect. And besides, I’m sure we’ll find other occasions to celebrate.” He kissed the right corner of John’s mouth. “Maybe we could cook spaghetti and recreate the _Lady and the Tramp_ scene!”

John laughed, “You’ve spent way too much time around Laf!”

Alexander was about to reply when John swallowed his words in another heated kiss. He pressed their hips together and firmly gripped one of his ass-cheeks. _Dear Lord this boy will be the death of me!_ Alex thought as he melted in the other man’s embrace.

“Perfect,” John repeated. He kissed Alex again and Alex altogether stopped thinking. He didn’t have words for what he was feeling, so instead he let his body take over and convey all his emotions for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK, first things first:  
> \- C'est pas juste! means It's not fair!  
> \- Ne sois pas mauvais joueur : Don't be a sore loser!  
> \- C'est le moins que l'on puisse dire : That's the least you could say  
> \- Non, pas depuis des semaines : No, not in weeks  
> \- J'approuve! : I approve!  
> \- Oh ça, Mademoiselles Schuyler, c'est une histoire qui vaut la peine d'être racontée! : Oh that, Miss Schuyler is a story worth telling! 
> 
> Now I'm not a big Sci-Fi nerd but I'm currently reading the fourth book of the H2G2 series and I'm hooked. Douglas Adams was a genius and you can't convince me otherwise. If you don't know it, give it a try it's super funny! 
> 
> When I was a child, I saw the Peter Pan movie an incredible amount of times, I was simply obsessed with it so... Sorry, not sorry! 
> 
> See you guys next week, take care and I love you! <3


	6. Chapter five: « Il pleure dans mon cœur comme il pleut sur la ville »

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex finally rejoins the world of the living and meet the Schuylers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello guys! 
> 
> Thanks for all your lovely comments on the last chapter, it was very sweet :) 
> 
> Trigger warning for this one: mentions of depression - nothing too deep or too dark but stay safe nonetheless please <3 
> 
> Now time to talk about that poem: it's from Paul Verlaine. The guy was a member of the Cursed Poets (yeah I know) He had an affair with Arthur Rimbaud while married to a woman and ended shooting his lover because he was very drunk and/or very high. Talk about tragic... Anyway the title means "It's raining in my heart like it rains on the city." I had to learn that poem when I was in middle school and for some reasons it never left my brain ^^
> 
> Enjoy!

When Aaron first met Theodosia at a party in their first year in Princeton, he immediately knew there would be nobody else for him. He knew it would be hard, after all she was engaged back then. Yet Aaron was willing to wait for her and _thank God he did._ Because here they were, five years later, happily married. They were on their couch, Theo’s feet on Aaron’s lap. He was sipping his drink while she stuck to water. She wasn’t quite showing yet and she hid the bump on her belly as best as she could most of the time. Most days, Aaron needed to pinch himself to believe it. A baby, a life that they created together! Being an orphan himself, Aaron hadn’t really considered parenthood before Theodosia told him she was pregnant. But he knew that he would dedicate every day to his child, he’d do whatever it’d take for them.

He was massaging her feet absentmindedly when his wife spoke up: “He hasn’t left the apartment today either you know?”

Aaron sighed. Last September namely seven months prior, Alexander and John broke up. At first, Alex tried to go on like nothing had happened – whether or not he truly believed it or pretended to, Aaron didn’t know – and lost himself in his work. He lasted about two weeks before having a breakdown in the middle of the office. Thankfully, he had been working late hours so nobody except him and Burr actually knew about that. That was when Aaron decided that Hamilton needed to step down, even if he didn’t like it. So he offered him the studio he and Theo owned above their own, since even though he had a good salary, Alex couldn’t afford their old place on his own. The studio was a heritance from Aaron’s parents that they usually lent to family and friends on visits. Alex had insisted he paid them rent and Aaron had accepted. That man’s pride was legendary but Burr understood that he didn’t want to be a charity case.

During the first times he lived there and since Burr had put him on forced holidays, Alexander had tried to be productive. He had taken writing about everything and nothing on his computer, exhausting himself in the process. Theo tried to coax him into talking to a therapist but he categorically refused. Then he heard that John had left the country and something even more terrifying happened. Alexander stilled. It had been months and Alex was still shell-shocked. Theo and Aaron could hear him cry and scream in the middle of the night, he only ever ate Oreos and they were also pretty sure his last shower had been a long time ago.

“You know,” Theo began, “we’ve tried to give him space, to give him time but that’s clearly not working.”

“So what are you suggesting?”

“Maybe it’s time to go tough love on him,” she said.

 

-

 

March had arrived and was surprisingly warm for the season. Eliza had been working on the outlines of her novel and had begun to write a few chapters. It wasn’t quite satisfying, especially considering that she didn’t have a clear ending yet. Fortunately Washington didn’t mind giving her more time. She had been touched by his trust and had made a mental note to buy something nice for him and Martha.

Somehow, Hercules and Lafayette had become her friends and more often than not, they would tag along when she went out with her sisters. That night, they were supposed to celebrate Hercules’ birthday at their usual bar. When she arrived, Laf had grabbed her arm and pulled her aside before she could even congratulate the birthday boy.

“What’s going on Laf?”

 _“Il est ici!”_ Laf hissed.

“What?”

“He’s here!”

“Who’s here?” Eliza had no idea of what he was talking about.

_“Le petit lion !”_

“What?” Eliza couldn’t believe it. “Alexander’s here?”

Lafayette nodded. “Apparently Burr sent him back to work a few weeks ago. Also made an appointment with a shrink and threatened to fire him if he didn’t go to the sessions.”

“So he just showed up unannounced?”

“Well, he called us last week. Said he was doing better and he was sorry for disappearing. So Herc invited him.”

“Ok,” Eliza said, dumbfounded. She wasn’t really sure of what she should do with that information.

“Look Eliza I know he said he is in a better place now and I understand you will want to talk to him about the book… But if you could just… not do it tonight? Wait a little until we’re sure he won’t just go back to hiding?”

“Yeah of course,” she smiled. “I understand.”

The two of them navigated in the crowd toward the table where the others were already seated. She hugged Hercules tightly, the other man almost crushing her. She laughed and planted a kiss on his cheeks. She was pretty sure his dark skin saved him from blushing embarrassingly. Peggy waved at her from across the table. She turned toward Angelica who was in deep conversation with a dark-haired man. She immediately knew who it was. Laf and Herc had shown her a few pictures of Alex and John when they were happy and in love. The man in front of her looked like the shadow of the smiling man on those pictures though. There was some kind of veil in front of his eyes. His smile seemed a bit odd, a bit forced. She sat next to him and they shook hands.

“My name is Alexander Hamilton,” he said.

“Elizabeth Schuyler,” she replied. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Schuyler?” he looked back at Angelica, surprised.

“My sister,” she explained, not hiding the pride in her voice. It was Eliza’s turn to blush.

Alexander and Angelica seemed to have hit off instantly. It was the first time Eliza saw someone matching her sister’s wit. They were talking full speed about Angelica’s work, then Alexander’s – though Eliza noticed he was pretty vague about his most recent cases – before engaging in a rant against the candidates of the Republican primary. Even if she didn’t participate much, they both made sure to include her in the conversation as much as they could. Alexander even slightly flirted with her but Eliza could see it was half-heartedly. His two friends were carefully watching him, as if they were afraid he might broke into tears at any moment. In the end, he did give her and Angelica his number before he left.

Once she was back at her apartment, Eliza stared at the digits. She knew she’d have to tell Alexander everything eventually. She wouldn’t be able to keep it a secret for long. Lafayette had asked her to wait until he was more stable but how would they be able to tell? Alexander would probably be angry with her if she became his friend and dropped that particular bomb on him. He would be hurt, which was the last thing Eliza wanted. She genuinely liked him. She wondered how he was like before the breakup. She couldn’t help but think that those eyes would be beautiful looking at someone with love and adoration. She had trouble falling asleep that night.

The answer to her dilemma came almost naturally. Alex texted her a week after Herc’s birthday to ask her if she wanted to have coffee with him. She accepted and he gave her an address of a coffee shop only two blocks down from her place. _Well,_ she thought, _you’ve got a week to figure out how to tell him…_

 

-

 

Alexander was sitting at a table in his favorite coffee shop, waiting for Eliza. It was small but super cozy with wooden floor and comfy cushions. There were also some old books in the shelves, which the customers could read as they pleased as long as they put them back before leaving. They served strong coffee from fair trade, which had helped him get through some particularly nasty all-nighters in Law School. It was close to where he used to live and he hadn’t found any other place with coffee so great near Burr’s place. He purposely didn’t look at the back booth where he and John had sat so many times. He would sip his extra large coffee with no sugar while John was enjoying something with too much cream and to much cinnamon. He would force him to eat half of his muffin too, saying Alex needed to have something else in his veins than caffeine.

Next to his table, a couple was obviously on a date. Alex looked as one the women took her girlfriend’s hand and kissed her knuckles gently. Alex suddenly had a lot of trouble to breathe in. He quickly looked away. Maybe he shouldn’t have suggested this place. Too many memories of John there, too many chances of thinking about him. But then again, that morning he had cried over John’s favorite cereals brand in the grocery store. The old lady shopping had given him a confused look and offered him a tissue he had taken, embarrassed. No matter where he was or what he was doing, he couldn’t escape the memories of John. Sometimes it was not even painful until he remembered that whatever he saw or heard of thought about, he couldn’t share with John.

John who had left for _fucking Europe_ because he couldn’t risk crossing paths with Alex no matter how big New York City was. John to whom Alex had given his whole heart, with whom he had built a home, whom he had only envisioned a future with... All for nothing! Only for all of it to be ripped apart in just one night. One night to end the happiest seven years of his life. He shouldn’t be surprised. All the good things in his life had ended over night. He had fallen asleep in his mother’s arms and when he woke up she wasn’t breathing. He had went to bed and found his cousin hanged at the ceiling the next day. His town had been torn by the hurricane and when the sky had cleared, he was the only one left. He had fooled himself to think he and John could be forever. John was just another thing on his path he’d destroyed. He sometimes caught himself wishing they had never met, never dated. John didn’t deserve what Alex had done to him.

He was stopped on his road of self-loathing by Eliza sitting in front of him. He jumped and she smirked, “Did I scare you?”

Alex chuckled. He took a second to look at her. She was wearing dark jeans and a light blue shirt. Her long, silk, dark hair was tied into a single braid, which was loosely resting on her right shoulder. She was truly beautiful, Alex thought. Before he met John, he would have done anything to charm her with a few chosen works and cocky smiles. He used to be a shameless flirt and he knew it. When he was with John, he literally couldn’t take his eyes off of him long enough to find someone looking pretty. And now, even though he couldn’t deny he was attracted to her, it just didn’t feel the same. He had felt love beyond all fears and nothing would ever compared to that. So he would have to content himself with those memories for the rest of his life. _Well if you put it like that, the future sounds really depressing!_ He thought bitterly.

Once again, Eliza put him out of his dark thoughts. “So what did you want to talk to me about?” she asked sweetly.

“Uh, well you said you used to work at an orphanage?”

“Yeah,” she smiled. “I really liked it. I still stopped by from time to times to see the kids and ten percent of my book’s rights goes to them actually.”

“That’s very impressive!”

They kept talking for an hour, time flying by as they bounced from subject to subject. They seemed to be kindred spirits, in synch but without the pull Alex always felt when he was with John. He supposed it was a good thing in the end. He needed someone like her in his life. She was kind without being naïve and still strong and passionate. He felt himself smile more genuinely than he had in weeks.

“Alex I have something to confess,” Eliza said when they were both ready to leave.

“What is it?”

“It’s the subject of my new book…” she hesitated. “But I think it would be better to show you… Do you mind coming to my apartment? It’s not too far away.”

Alex nodded and started following her in the familiar streets. It was raining a little and they huddled under her umbrella. He was walking slower and slower as they approached a _very_ familiar building. Eliza sensed it and slowed down her pace so he didn’t get wet. She didn’t say a word when she opened the front door. His eyes were wide. He felt dread and panic settled in his stomach as he crossed the threshold and walked up the steps. His tights’ muscles were hurting. He wasn’t use to do this anymore and that mere thought was almost enough to make him cry. He wasn’t even surprised when Eliza led him to his old door. He followed her inside with apprehension.

He didn’t know whether he was relieved or not that the apartment didn’t look the way it did when he and John lived there. Eliza had pictures of her sisters and family where there used to be a graduation picture of their quartet. The protest posters and pride flag were gone, leaving the walls bare. Alex distantly noted that the kitchen had been repainted. It used to be plain white and was now light purple. The bedroom door was closed, which meant Nathanael had fixed the handle after they left. He felt dizzy and let himself fall in the armchair and _eh! that’s also new!_

Eliza came to sit in the sofa in front of him. She looked uncomfortable which was strange since they were at her place. _Her place, not yours anymore,_ a voice supplied in Alexander’s head. The silence was heavy between them and Alex had no idea of what he was supposed to say. He was very tired suddenly.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t sure how to tell you,” Eliza whispered.

“Tell me what exactly?”

She got up and opened a wooden box in the coffee table. She gave him an envelope and he understood what it was before he recognized his own handwriting. He gave up pretending he was ok and started crying. John hadn’t read the letter. John didn’t know about the letter. _John…_

“This arrived a little while after I moved in,” Eliza explained. “I didn’t mean to read it but I did and then…”

At this point, Alex was sobbing. Eliza rose from her seat to kneel in front of him. She took his hands in comfort. When he didn’t do anything to pull her away, she squeezed them.

“That’s how I met Herc and Laf,” she murmured. “I was looking for John, I was hoping they could get me a forwarding address.”

Alex nodded. He wasn’t sure he was able to speak properly and he didn’t know what he should answer. He forced himself to take deep breaths. When he eventually regained his ability to speak, he said: “I thought you wanted to talk to me about your new book.”

“I just did,” Eliza replied.

This time, he did put his hands away from hers.

“You’re writing about us?” he asked in disbelief.

“Please let me explain,” she begged him. “I read your letter and it was heartbreaking and beautiful. And I had been looking for a subject for my new book for weeks. I talked to my editor and I always said I would leave your actual names out of it. Alex, I have never heard of two people who loved each other as much as you and John did… I swear I never meant to hurt you…”

Alex wanted to be angry, to shout, to fight… But he found out he didn’t have the energy. It hurt so much to hear her use past tense about them. It seemed so final when some days he was still confused when he woke up and John wasn’t next to him.

“What do you want to know?”

“Seriously?” Eliza exclaimed. “Alexander you don’t have to… I feel like I’ve betrayed you enough already and…”

“Eliza,” he cut her off. “What do you want to know?”

“You’re sure?” she asked, concerned.

“Yeah, why not? My therapist did say I had to learn to open up to other people so…”

“Ok, do you mind if I record this?” he shrugged.

Eliza took her phone out of her pocket and put it on the table next to them. She sat back on the sofa.

“What happened?”

Alex didn’t have to ask her to precise. Sometimes he asked himself the same question.

_What happened?_

He started talking. He told Eliza about the times he and John would lie next to each other on their bed, John sketching and Alex reading. John would call him a snob because he was reading the French anthology of poetry Laf had gotten him at Christmas. He told her about the time when a flood had destroyed so many houses and John had been so angry the insurance company refused to paid for the reparations he had destroyed half of their tableware. Alex had wordlessly cleaned the cuts on his hands and kissed his knuckles gently. He told her he would sometimes come back from work to find John dancing in the living room and how every time John managed to convinced him to join him.

He also told Eliza of the silver band he bought almost a year before and never got to give to John. He also told her how they knew each other all too well, their biggest fears and their darkest secrets. He told her about the endless versions of the same fight they had for weeks before everything blew up in their faces. Henry Laurens was being a dick to his son and Alexander couldn’t stand doing _nothing_ to stop the jackass.

He told her about that night. The night they both screamed and spitted the worst at each other without meaning any of it but wanting to hurt the other nonetheless. He told her how John slammed the door and how he had stood, frozen in the living room. He had to go to work the next day and John had somehow packed all his things and was out of the continent within a month.

“Why did you send the letter here then?” Eliza asked.

“I was hoping he had left a forwarding address to Nathanael,” Eliza shook her head. “I guess I was wrong.”

“I’m really sorry Alexander,” Eliza said after a moment of silence.

“Me too Miss Schuyler,” he said with a sad smile, “me too.” He got up, wiped away his tears and walked toward the door. He opened it and turned around to look back at her. “You should burn that,” he said and walked away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Il est ici" means "He's here"
> 
> Please keep making me happy with comments/kudos, you have no idea of how much it means to me <3 
> 
> Also I wrote another Lams fic that you can find [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8179487)
> 
> I'm working on a new project but it might take a while so in the meantime please sent me prompts, headcanon or anything on [ Tumblr](http://i-dreamthedream.tumblr.com/ask) (can be Hamilton, In the Heights or any other fandoms) please!!


	7. Chapter six: « Lune, en notre mémoire, de tes belles amours l’histoire t’embellira toujours »

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eliza gets a call from Burr, saying that a familiar face is back...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, hello, hello! <3 
> 
> Thanks to all of you for all your comments of the last chapter (and thanks for not hating me, seeing Alex like that makes me cry too!) Buckle up for this one because it's not exactly joyful but y'all wanted to see John and now you finally get to so... 
> 
> Title means 'Moon, in our memory, of your loves history will always make you bright' it comes from a poem called 'Ballade à la lune' (Moon's ballad) written by Alfred de Musset. The guy is mostly known for a very complicated relationship with George Sand (pen name of a woman named Aurore Dupin) who cheated on him and the guy basically wrote so many poems about his pain. He also wrote great plays.

Eliza had a slight feeling of _déjà-vu_ when she entered Georges Washington’s office in the last days of July. She sat in the chair in front of her boss. She noted that he was wearing the pink handkerchief that day and no tie. That must have been Martha’s doing, Eliza mused. She presented him her last chapters. She had written frenetically in the last few months. In fact, her inability to take a break had worried pretty much everyone around her and especially her sisters. At some point, Hercules had barged into her apartment and simply confiscated her laptop. She had pouted while he made her tea and at her second sip, she was fast asleep in her sofa. She had woken up in her bed, fourteen hours later. Hercules had slept on the sofa and insisted in cooking her breakfast.

She’d asked him how he knew how to deal with that kind of situation.

“I watched John do it for Alex for years,” he’d shrugged. “Seemed normal to do it for you.” And if she’d blushed – she had – she totally blamed the lack of sleep.

It had happened again. In fact it had become a normal occurrence for Hercules to walk into her apartment, a bag of grocery shopping in his arms. He had made himself at home in Eliza’s kitchen and took pride in sharing with her his favorite recipes. And _damn_ the man could cook. Eliza was still a little embarrassed of the moan that had escaped her lips when she took the first bite of his lasagna.

They had gone out a few times too. Usually they would meet for coffee and sometimes drinks. They would talk for hours and both would ignore the elephant in the room: _what were they?_ So they didn’t label their relationship. They were close and probably not just friends anymore. But they were both content with was they had for now.

Georges was reading the latest chapter. The editing process was mostly done and the book could be under press in less than a month.

“It looks promising,” he smiled.

She tried to smile back but it didn’t reach her eyes.

“What’s wrong Eliza?”

“It’s just…” she hesitated. “I wish I could have given them a better ending… I mean I don’t know John but Alex and I have grown pretty close over the last months. And I feel like I’ve taken advantage of him already and now this book will be there to remind him just how much he suffered!”

“That’s not what this book is about Eliza,” Washington said slowly.

“Then what is it about?”

“It’s about how much he and John loved each other, how strong their love was…”

“Does it matter if they’re both heartbroken in the end?” she asked.

“In any case, Alexander needs to learn to live without John now… If the memories are all he has left, he can take comfort in the fact that they will be forever in papers and that no one will forget about them. He’s lucky you’re telling their story.”

Eliza snorted, “I’m pretty sure he feels many things but I doubt ‘ _lucky’_ is one of them!”

“Eliza,” Washington said, tone firm.

“Sorry sir,” she mumbled. “It’s kinda frustrating to see him get back on his feet but without actually getting better.”

His face softened. “These things take time…”

She nodded, unconvinced.

They discussed a few things about the book cover and Eliza left. She decided to walk back to her apartment instead of taking the subway. It was a hot afternoon and she was enjoying the warmth and the fresh air. Her phone buzzed in her purse with an incoming call.

“Hello?” she picked up, coming to a stop and sitting on a bench.

“Good afternoon Miss Schuyler,” said a smooth voice. “Aaron Burr.”

“Mister Burr!” she exclaimed, restraining herself to add the ironic _‘sir’_. Damn she spent way too much time with Hamilton! “Is Alexander ok?” she asked. She couldn’t for the life of her figured out another reason why Burr would call her.

“As fine as he can be,” Burr answered, but there was an edge in his voice and that should have alerted Eliza. Burr – the ever so composed Aaron Burr – was very close to panicking. “But that might change very soon actually,” he added.

“What’s going on?”

“I just received a call,” he explained. “From John Laurens.”

 _“What?”_ Eliza shrieked. “Are you _kidding me?_ ”

“I’m afraid not, miss Schuyler. John is back in New York.”

“I don’t understand,” Eliza said. “Why would he call you of all people?”

“Because miss Schuyler,” he replied patiently, “unlike our dear Alexander, I do not run my mouth to everyone all the time.”

“But you’re telling me?”

“Well while John asked me no mention his presence to Hamilton, Lafayette and Mulligan, he didn’t say anything about you.”

“Sounded like a real lawyer Burr,” Eliza smirked. “But I’m not sure what you want me to do with that…”

“Miss Schuyler,” he interrupted her. “You and I both know that even though Hamilton is getting better, he’s still very far from ok. He’s not over John and I’m ready to bet that John isn’t over him either. Those two need to sort things out! You’ve managed to get Alex to talk to you, I’m sure you’ll get John to listen.”

“You’re putting a lot of faith in me Burr,” she mumbled.

“Alex trusts you Eliza.” She frowned. That was the first time since she knew him that he had used her first name. “That’s enough for me to trust you too.”

“Thanks…”

“I’m texting you John’s number, good luck miss Schuyler!” and he hung up.

 _Well shit,_ Eliza thought.

 

-

 

The second John had set foot on American soil again he had felt like he could finally breathe. Growing up, the concept of _home_ had always been a bit foreign. When your own skin feels like prison, there’s little chance you’ll find a place with that sense of safety and acceptance. John had had a home once in New York, somewhere he had been safe and accepted and _loved._ When it all went to shit, John had chosen the cowardly way out and ran.

He had liked Europe. He had the opportunity to do so much there. He had visited the Greek and Italian costs and helped find emergency placements for the poor souls who had survived the crossing. He had gone to Calais and negotiated with the local authorities to improve the hygiene conditions in the jungle. He even went to Brussels to do some lobbying at the European Commission.

He had seen other ways of thinking, other ways of living, other ways counting – he now fully understood why Laf was so confused by distance and temperatures – yet the second he landed in New York, he had felt like he was finally home. It was a curious and not unwelcomed feeling to have even though there had been nobody waiting for him at the airport with a big smile and a silly sign. Well he was responsible for that one. He knew he had done a poor job at keeping in touch with Herc and Laf even if the two would deny being mad at him for it and would have come anyway. The thing was every time they talked, the ghost of his and Alexander’s relationship was hanging in the air. And that still hurt even though it had been almost a year.

 _A year apart._ John had trouble wrapping his mind around that idea. They’d known each other for so long – almost ten years! – and the longest they had been away from each other during that time were the three months of summer break when John would dutifully go back to South Carolina.

It felt weird to give the cab driver his hotel address instead of his old apartment’s. He tipped the guy, gave his name to the receptionist and all but collapsed on the bed. It had been a nine-hours-flight and he was exhausted.

Before closing his eyes, he called Burr. He didn’t know what on Earth had possessed him to do so. He reasoned with himself that he just needed to hear a familiar voice now that he was on familiar ground and that he could not call Hercules and Lafayette without alerting Alexander. Burr, he knew, wouldn’t say anything if he asked him not to. The lawyer had been surprised by the call but had not commented on it, for which John was grateful. They didn’t talk for long; John only mentioned that he was back and looking for a place to live and a job. Before he hung up, he made Burr promised he wouldn’t say a word to “the other three members of the Revolutionary Set.” Burr had sighed and accepted.

“How are they?” he didn’t mean to ask, but the question escaped his lips anyway.

Burr was silent at first and John found himself worrying more and more by the minutes.

“They’ve been better,” Burr finally said, both pretending they didn’t know he meant Alex. “But they’ve also been worse so…” John was hit with a wave of guilt and regret. _Oh God what have I done?_ He felt sick in his stomach. He quickly ended the call and only managed to get a few hours of restless sleep.

He didn’t get out of his hotel much on the first days. He was too paranoid to accidently cross paths with Alex. He knew that was highly improbable however he was also very aware of the fact that the whole city was a giant Pandora box of feelings and memories of their relationship. He was looking for apartments online when his phone screen lit up. It was an incoming call from an unknown number in the New York area.

“Hello?”

“Hi, are you John Laurens?” said a female voice on the other end.

“Yes, who are you?”

“My name is Elizabeth Schuyler,” the voice replied. “I live at your former apartment and I received a letter for you.”

“Oh, ok…” John said. How the hell did this woman get his phone number?

“If you want we can meet up somewhere so I can give it to you. Does tomorrow at six work for you?”

“I guess?” John was very confused by the entire conversation.

“Perfect! I’ll text you the address. See you tomorrow!”

John had no idea of what to expect when he walked into the small café. He couldn’t help feeling nervous. Something just didn’t add up: how did that girl get his number? How did she know he was back in town? Who the hell was that letter she talked about from?

A small woman with long dark hair and light skin waved at him from a table in the back. She was wearing a summer dress and even John could see she was fairly beautiful.

“Elizabeth Schuyler?” he asked, unsure.

“Yes! Nice to meet you John!” she shook his hand and gestured for him to sit with her. “And please, call me Eliza.”

John nodded. The waiter came by and took their order. They waited in silence for their drinks to arrive – green tea for Eliza and coffee with sugar and cream for John.

“So,” Eliza began. “I actually have two things for you.”

She extracted an envelope from her purse and put it in front of him. John froze when he recognized the handwriting. Then Eliza carefully placed a USB key next to it.

“What it this?” John asked, the sound of his voice foreign to his own ears.

“You should just read them both,” Eliza answered kindly. She gathered her things and prepared to leave saying she’ll get the bill. John was too shell-shocked to protest. Before actually leaving, she put a hand on his shoulder and whispered: “He really misses you” and John thought he might just die. His whole body was shaking. He didn’t know for how long he stayed there, staring blankly at the letters.

He didn’t remember getting back to his hotel. He only knew he was on the bed, struggling to see the words on paper because he couldn’t stop crying. At that point, the pain was so deep he thought he would pass out. He read it again and again and again, he didn’t know what to do. When he looked at the clock, it was a little after eleven.

He took a deep breath and opened his laptop. There was only one file on the key, a three hundred pages Word document titled ‘ _The story of tonight’._ John started to read it and his sobs doubled. It wasn’t his name or Alexander’s but this was their story! This was heartbreaking and funny and sweet and beautiful. He read it all in one-go, finding that the story still ended in tears. In the epilogue was a replica of Alexander’s letter. Eliza had only added a few lines after it. Lin, the name of Alex’s character was thinking of him and he actually had hope: _“I can’t wait to see you again, it’s only a matter of time.”_

John thought back to what Eliza had said. What is true? Was Alex missing him? Was there still a chance for them? He wanted to beat himself up for even thinking it. Life wasn’t that easy. Life wasn’t a fairytale. He and Alex couldn’t just pick up where they left things. They’ve gone too far, crossed too many lines that night. Even thinking about it made John want to vomit.

He scrolled back to one particular chapter and allowed the memories to take him back to that night. That night, Alex and him, _‘Under the Brooklyn sky’._

 

-

 

It was their first anniversary and John couldn’t stop grinning. Alex had pretended to be too busy to celebrate, only to surprise John with dinner reservation at a very nice Italian place.

“You weren’t kidding about recreating the _Lady and the Tramp_ scene, were you?” John asked fondly.

“Nope!” Alex grinned. And John just had to laugh because his boyfriend was being ridiculous and that was cute.

So they shared a large plate of spaghetti and Alex was determined to get a kiss from it. He did, even though it was pretty gross since his face was full of sauce. John sighed in mock exasperation before cleaning him with a napkin. Alex had never loved him more.

They finished eating but there weren’t ready to go back to uni yet. The night wasn’t warm but the cool spring air felt nice on their skin. They wandered around in Brooklyn, giggling and stealing kisses every so often.

Eventually they found a set of swings and Alexander ran excitedly toward one. John followed him, amused. It was good to see him so relaxed. They were graduating in less than two months and he knew how distressed Alexander felt toward it. He was too if he was honest but he was also excited to start another chapter of their life.

John sat on the other swing and looked up to the sky. It was a clear night and the April moon was shining bright above them. When he tilted his head back into a normal position, he noticed Alex had climbed down the swing and was now standing in front of him, _very close._

John smiled. Alex put his hands on the strings and took a step right into John’s personal space. John didn’t mind the slightest.

“Hi,” he murmured.

“Happy anniversary John,” he murmured back before kissing him, slow and sweet.

They parted, resting their foreheads together, smiling.

“I can’t believe it’s been a year,” John said.

“I can’t believe we’re done with college,” Alex replied. He bit his bottom lips nervously.

“What’s wrong?” John asked.

“You’re sure you wanna do it?” and John knew exactly was he was talking about. They’ve been visiting apartments for weeks now and they had finally found the perfect place. The only problem was that it was far too expensive for Alex’s tastes. He didn’t want John to have to pay for it all when this place was supposed to be for the two of them. He knew it was his pride and that John could afford it thanks to the money his mother had given him. Still.

“Yes Alexander,” and John didn’t sound exasperated or frustrated. That boy was way too perfect. “I wanna live with you,” he said, standing up and pressing their bodies close. “I want a home for just you and me and I really don’t mind being the only name on the lease until you finish Columbia and start working. You’re gonna need someone who makes sure you don’t work yourself to death! And you might kill anybody who comes near you around the exams period, I’ll help dispose of the body!”

Alex nodded.

“Besides,” John added in his ear, voice low. “I can’t wait to be able to take you to bed _every night baby girl,”_ and oh did Alexander shivered at that.

John looked back at him and given by the smug expression on his face, he knew perfectly what his words were doing to Alex.

“Ok,” the smaller man breathed. “Now I bribed Hercules so he would let us have the room, so we better get back!”

“Ok,” John laughed. And he eagerly followed his boyfriend back to the dorm. When Alex crawled in bed next to him, John caught himself thinking: _“I could do this for the rest of my life.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come shout at me in the comment section or on my [Tumblr!](http://i-dreamthedream.tumblr.com/)
> 
> See you next Friday, it'll be the last chapter and then the epilogue in two weeks :D


	8. Chapter seven: « En te quittant, nous nous retrouverons »

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex and John finally reunite

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hola todxs! :D 
> 
> So I can't quite believe it, but this is the last chapter of this fic! After this one, we only have the epilogue left! Thank you everybody, for all your lovely comments and feedback :) 
> 
> Enjoy! 
> 
> PS: Title from Paul Eluard, from a poem called 'Certitude' and means, "By leaving you, we find each other again"

Alex was in Brooklyn again. He knew it wasn’t healthy but he kept coming back anyway. He always came at night when the kids were gone. He sat in one of the swings and just let the inertia move him back and forth slowly. It wasn’t healthy. It had been almost a year he should be moving on or at least get tremendously drunk so he could pretend he was.

He admitted he was doing better. But he still wasn’t fine. He was working again, which gave him a sense of purpose. He was seeing a shrink and he had to admit Dr. Pendleton was a great man and that talking to him did help. He was seeing his friends more – Hercules and Laf were ecstatic each time they went out – and he had also bounded with the three Schuyler sisters in very different ways. Peggy would tell him everything that was going on in her life. He wasn’t exactly sure of why she confided in him but he enjoyed listening to her nonetheless. Angelica would always challenge him on a particularly thorny issue and the two would debate for hours on literally anything. In Eliza he found a platonic soulmate. She was always there for him – even the days when he didn’t deserve her – she would never push him and always offered a shoulder to cry on. That woman was a Saint. Burr had been there for him too, a silent presence but Alex knew he could rely on him on his bad days. God he was now in his debt! He had decided he would pay him and Theo back by spoiling their child for the rest of his life.

Yet every time he was alone in his bed, Alexander’s mind wandered back to John. He had bought several French anthology of poetry. They all talked about broken heart, about loneliness, about pain. He had never more relate to a bunch of French dudes that had been dead for over a century. Finding the right words for his despair made it sharper and Alex relished in that feeling. He relished in it because there was always a moment before the pain when all he remembered was how happy he used to be. And when the poems were not enough, when the memories of him and John seemed to slip away he would come here and watch the stars.

He was softly singing to himself when he heard footsteps approaching. He frowned, who would come here at this hour? He was making out a silhouette coming his way but in the darkness he couldn’t really make much of it except it was male.

Then he heard a voice and he stopped breathing: “Alexander?”

Alexander knew that voice. He knew every intonation of that voice. Hearing that voice saying his name used to be his favorite song. But right then, it was his most dreaded reality.

“John?” he breathed. The silhouette came closer and he was met with the unmistakable sight of John Laurens. John’s hair was down and Alex noticed it was slightly shorter than it used to be. He was also thinner and he looked like he hadn’t slept in days. On his face was an expression of pure shock, matching the one of Alex’s. At first neither of them dared to speak. Time stood still as they stared at each other, speechless.

“What are you doing here?” Alex finally asked, not being able to handle the silence any longer.

“I just… I wanted…” John stammered and Alex could barely hear him. There was so much distance between them. It was like seeing him on the other side of a bridge neither of them was ready to cross.

“What the _fuck_ are you doing here John?” Alex asked again and the name on his tongue felt almost foreign. “I thought you were in Europe!”

John shook his head. “I came back. About two weeks ago.”

“Two weeks?” Alex was raising his voice. “You’ve been back for two weeks and you haven’t said anything to anyone?” He was getting more and more angry by the second.

“I’ve…” John seemed at loss for words. “I didn’t know what to say…”

“Well you could’ve started by ‘Hey I’m back and I missed you!’” Alex flinched at his own words. “Not to me obviously since you couldn’t even stand to be in the same continent as me but Laf and Herc? They’ve been worried about you and you _know it!”_

Oh God did it hurt! Each word from Alex was like a stab wound in John’s chest. The pain was only greater because he knew he deserved all of it.

“I’m sorry ok?” he finally snapped.

“About what?” Alex said challengingly.

“Everything,” he responded. And then he broke down to tears, violent ugly sobs coming out of his throat. He couldn’t breathe. And suddenly a pair of hands was holding his face and Alex face was really close to his. He saw his lips moving and he tried to focus on the words. Alex was reciting one of the poems he used to declaim at home. John remembered that one. That one was about a bird right? A great bird caught by sailors and trapped on the ground.

 

 _“…_ _Lui, naguère si beau, qu'il est comique et laid !_  
_L'un agace son bec avec un brûle-gueule,_  
_L'autre mime, en boitant, l'infirme qui volait !_

 _Le Poète est semblable au prince des nuées_  
_Qui hante la tempête et se rit de l'archer ;_  
 _Exilé sur le sol au milieu des huées,_  
 _Ses ailes de géant l'empêchent de marcher. ”_

 

Alexander recited it three times entirely before John was able to calm down a little. Alex was stepping back and dropping his hands but John grabbed him by the waist and kept him close. Alex let himself be held and when he dared to meet his eyes, John saw that he was also crying.

“I’m so sorry,” he said again. “For everything. I have been trying so hard but I just can’t and… I’ve fucked up so bad this past year… I’m so sorry.”

Alexander was helpless. John Laurens was crying in his arms and maybe he was weak but he could not find the strength in him to push him away. Instead, he gently stroked his fingers through John’s curls in a soothing gesture. It was something he used to do and the fact that John relaxed almost instantly under his ministrations was breaking him. How was he supposed to get over him now?

“I read your letter,” John choked and Alexander froze. “And the book that girl wrote about us and…”

“What?”

“That girl, Eliza? She called me and she gave me the letter and the novel and I swear Alexander if I could just turn back time and apologize I would because…”

“Stop!” Alexander cut him. This time he needed to distance himself so he did step back and John made a unhappy sound at the loss.

“Stop,” he repeated. “Don’t talk about ‘what ifs’ and ‘what might have beens’, talk about now! Here and now,” John recognized the expression on his face. Alex was going in solving-issue-mode. “You said you’re back?”

John nodded vigorously. “My contract was done and as much as I enjoyed Europe, I needed to come home.” _Home to you._

“So you’re here to stay?”

“Yeah, I’m looking for job and apartment. I’m living at a hotel right now but it’s temporary.”

“Ok,” Alexander said, processing it all. It was a lot to take. _John is in New York again. He is here to stay. He’s not an ocean away, only a moment away…_

“I talked to my Dad,” John said lowly.

“You what?”

“I talked to him, three months back. Told him he could either accept he had a gay son or step out of my life. Told him I would not give in to the emotional blackmail anymore so…”

“What did he say?” Alex asked.

“Oh lots of things, the main one being that I’m no son of his and that I wasn’t welcomed back in South Carolina…” He admitted.

“I’m sorry John…”

“Don’t be, I needed to do this. And my siblings are grown-ups and don’t need his permission to talk to me… It’s not ok but it’s alright.”

Alex nodded. Silence fell around them. They both knew what was coming. They both dreaded it and couldn’t wait for it at the same time. This time, John broke the silence.

“So what happens now?”

“It depends,” Alex said carefully, “of you want.”

“Of what I want?” John sounded disbelieving. “Alexander, I was on my way to a panic attack just because I couldn’t stand what I did to us! I think it’s pretty clear that I’m not over you!”

“That doesn’t answer the question John…”

“Oh for _God sakes Alexander!_ I want this! I want us! I want to do what I didn’t do last time. I want to argue with you and figure things out. I want to fight _for_ us instead of fighting with you! I know what my life looks like without you in it now Alex and I don’t want any part of it! Is my answer to your satisfaction?”

Alex’s whole world was spinning. _I want us. Alexander. I’m not over you. I want to fight for us…_

Not trusting himself to speak, Alex just surged into John. It wasn’t sweet and tender like their first kiss. It was a hard press on the lips, teeth clinging and holding on onto the other so much it would leave marks on their skin. John tilted his hand and deepened the kiss. They fought for dominance. The sounds they were making were almost animalistic. It was _months_ of anger and frustration and pain finally culminating. And after the year they’d had, it was heaven.

“Wait,” John said suddenly and Alex whined and _damn_ if that didn’t help him concentrate. But he needed to know, “Do you forgive me?”

“What?” Confusion was written all over Alex’s face.

“For what I said that night, for leaving… Do you forgive me?”

“I did that a long time ago John,” Alex laughed against his skin. “Just don’t do it again,” he added to himself but John heard it anyway. _I promise I’ll make it up to you everyday for the rest of my life._

Then, expression more serious, Alex looked up at him, “Do you? Forgive me I mean?”

“Of course!” John attacked his mouth against, taking and taking and Alex was all too happy to give. Nothing in his life had ever felt more _right_ than kissing that man. And if he had a say about it, he would make sure to keep doing it for the rest of his life.

When they parted they were crying again though they were also smiling. Alex put his arms around John and squeezed him tight and John didn’t mind the slightest.

“I’m never letting you go again you know that?” he mumbled into John’s hair.

“Please don’t.”

 

-

 

John didn’t remember how they got here, that seemed to happen a lot recently. The only thing he knew for sure is that he didn’t let go of Alexander’s hand the whole time. And now they were at Alexander’s studio above the Burr’s apartment and John wasn’t sure of what to do. The place was small but surprisingly in order considering Alex was living there. He spotted a pile of unwashed coffee mugs in the sink and an open Word document on his laptop. _Some things never change, do they?_ But it seemed to be the only signs of a regular presence there. He couldn’t see any pictures or personal items that would attest human presence. The landscapes framed at the wall were so bland they screamed _Burr._ It was as if Alex had tried to go unnoticed at his own place. John felt the guilt claimed its usual position in his stomach. _See what you’ve done to him?_ He forced the thought out. It was in the past, no need to dwell on it when they could make good use of the present. Something behind the sofa bed got John’s attention.

“Is that a record player?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Alex smiled. An honest to God smile and _how_ exactly did John managed without those for this long? “It belonged to Aaron’s grandfather or something. Actually, I think there’s still…”

He fumbled for a few minutes before finding what he was looking for. He put the vinyl on the player and the room was filled with some old school jazz. The sound was a bit muffled but the trumpets still made John grin like an idiot.

“Armstrong?” he asked and Alex nodded. He was watching John with a fond expression. John extended his hand and Alex took it without hesitation. John spun him around for show before bringing him close to him. He kept him there, his other hand firmly settled on his lower back. Alex put his on John’s nape as they swayed gently. They were probably dancing a little too slowly to fit the music but they both couldn’t care less. John’s mind was slowly coming to the realization that _this was real, this was really happening._ Holy shit he couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t believe they were given a second chance. He swore to whatever deity who gave a damn that he wouldn’t fuck it up this time.

He looked down. Alexander’s head was resting on his chest, eyes closed and seeming completely at peace. He opened his eyes, noticed John watching him and leaned up for a kiss. This one was pure bliss. When the song ended, John wasn’t quite ready to let go of Alexander just yet. Alex didn’t seem to mind and he began to give John butterfly kisses wherever he could reach some skin, on his cheeks, nose, neck…

“I love you so much baby girl,” John murmured. He didn’t mean to actually say it like that, not when everything was still fragile between them. But when his eyes met Alex, he was submerged by the absence of doubt he found there. He remembered falling for those eyes a lifetime ago, remembered the glassy looks after too many hours of studying and the adoration there when they looked at him. It wasn’t adoration he found there now though. It was happiness, pure and bright.

“I love you too John.”

John picked Alex up and he wrapped his legs around John’s waist automatically. They exchanged a passionate kiss while John walked them toward the sofa bed. He put Alex down and the thing squeaked.

“We’re gonna have to buy another bed,” Alexander breathed while getting rid of John’s shirt.

“Not a problem,” John answered, rediscovering the skin of his neck with his tongue.

Alex sighed happily. It felt incredible to be able to touch John again. Distantly, he thought ‘ _It feels like coming home.’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Told you I couldn't not let them have a happy ending, have faith my friends!
> 
> The poem is the fic is from Charles Baudelaire (great dude, we'll talk about him next week!) The poem is called 'L'albatros'. I won't do Baudelaire the injure of trying to translate it so here's what you need to know: the poem is about a great bird who's like a prince in the sky but is totally trapped when on the ground. It's a metaphore: the poet is like the bird, rising above humanity with their art but inadequate within the society. 
> 
> So I started writing again, a new project but I won't post it untill it's all finished which might take a while. In the meantime, I'll probably write one-shots so if you want, don't hesitate to send me prompts on [my Tumblr!](http://i-dreamthedream.tumblr.com/)


	9. Epilogue: « Aimer à loisir, aimer et mourir, au pays qui te ressemble ! »

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone gets a happy ending

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyy! 
> 
> So this is it... I can't believe you guys stuck with me for the last two months... You have no idea how much it means... 
> 
> Ok, Imma try to do this without getting to emotional. First, the title: comes from a poem named 'L'invitation au voyage' (Journey's invitation) by Charles Baudelaire. Means 'Loving freely, loving and dying in a place that looks like you'. This poem is one of the only baudelairian poem that doesn't make me wanna die. The guy was part of the 'Cursed poets' of the 19th century along with Rimbaud, Verlaine and others... His life is kinda depressing: his Dad died, he hated his step-father, he was depressed, drank and smoked way too much and died young. But he was also a genius, he totally changed the way poetry was written and his style is so unique that it can't be classified into the usual categories. My highschool lit teacher used to say that "Baudelaire was baudelairian and that's it!" 
> 
> Thank you again for all your love and support! Enjoy <3

**_Three years later_ **

The first thing John registered when he walked back into his apartment was the cry for help coming from the back bedroom. He deposited his coat and bag and walked toward the source of the noise. There he found his husband in the middle of what looked like a tickling war his children were winning. Alexander was lying on the floor, looking totally dishevelled with Frances attacking his sides, her fingers dancing on his ribs. Little Philip was by his father’s head and squeaked, messing with his hair and pulling.

John burst out laughing, making his presence known.

“Daddy!” Frances rushed toward him. He picked her up and put a lousy kiss on her cheek. The little girl giggled and pouted when he put her down. He looked at his husband, still on the floor.

“Need any help?”

“John save me! I’m outnumbered!” Alexander answered dramatically.

John shook his head as he lowered himself on the floor next to him. John put a gentle kiss on Philip’s head. The children then went to play with the dollhouse and the stuffed turtles on the other side of the room, claiming that their Papa was being silly. Alex raised himself to lean on his elbows so he could take a better look at John.

 _Being a father looks good on him,_ Alexander thought. He was wearing the rainbow bracelet Frances had made for them a few months before and the silver on his ring finger contrasted beautifully with his freckled skin (can you believe the man had freckles on his _fingers_?).

They had been married for almost two years and a half. It may have seemed a bit rushed, getting married when they just had gone back together. Alexander, as always, had thrown away every advice of prudence. He wanted to call John his husband and the wedding ring had been waiting in his drawer for _way too long!_ It hadn’t been a big wedding ceremony, just them and their friends and that was enough. Laf and Herc had done a great job at embarrassing them with the best men’s speeches but neither had cared ten minutes after as they were dancing to _What a wonderful world._ They had found a lovely place in Brooklyn with a spare bedroom that was originally going to be Alexander’s office. But then John – thanks to a lovely recommendation letter from Eliza – had gotten a job at the orphanage. The prospect of starting a family was already on their mind when the siblings were admitted in the system. John had instantly fallen in love with them when he met them. Alex knew better than anyone that siblings tended to be separated in the foster system so when John brought up the idea of adoption for the first time, it had seemed obvious.

So that was how a little more than a year after their wedding they had become parents and Alexander’s office had become the kids’ bedroom. He didn’t regret the calm space at all. Frances and Philip were seven and two at the time. The little boy was confused while his big sister was mostly angry and distrustful. John and Alex had been nothing but patient and understanding though. A year and a half later, both children were happy and healthy and their Dads were only slightly exhausted.

John tried to smooth Alex’s hair in a more presentable way with his fingers but their son had been dedicated. His husband sighed in contentment and John leaned down for a chaste kiss.

“Ew!” Frances exclaimed from the other side of the room. “Stop being gross and come play with us!”

Both adults chuckled.

“Sorry kiddo,” John answered. “We’re going to Aunt Eliza and Uncle Hercules’ housewarming party tonight, time to change!”

The kids groaned and it took all of John’s powers of persuasion to convince them to let go of their toys and get changed. Alexander and John both needed a shower, which they took separately since they didn’t want to be late. Alex grabbed the housewarming present on the sideboard and ushered everybody out.

It didn’t feel weird anymore to enter their old building to visit their friend. The place looked a lot like Eliza and Hercules. There was a special shelf with Eliza’s books (only three for now but the fourth was coming up soon she’d said), new curtains with incredible embroideries that Hercules had done himself and the place always smelled of the incense sticks Eliza loved. The two had taken their time to label their relationship, to the point that when they announced to their friends they were dating, Laf had only said: “ _Sérieusement ?_ Is it supposed to be news?”

They welcomed the Hamilton-Laurens family with big hugs and cheers. The kids loved them dearly. When they stepped into the living room Angelica was already there, talking to John Church. She had taken Peggy’s advice and ran off to Vegas with him a year before, tired of her Dad’s constant scolds about her relationship. When she had come back to City Hall with a smile as bright as the diamond on her finger, Jefferson had nearly choked on air. Her husband was a really kind man that both men truly appreciated. Peggy was sitting on the floor crossed-legs, texting.

“Where’s Maria?” John asked.

“At work, she’ll arrive as soon as she can,” she replied.

The fact that Peggy was dating Maria Lewis had been a bit of a shock for Alex. When Peggy had ‘introduced’ them, he had honestly thought she would slap him. (“You would’ve deserved it,” John had said. “I know,” he’d answered). Lucky for him, Maria was a way better human being than most and had done a wonderful job to diffuse the awkwardness. The two girls were good together, everybody could tell. Maria had even gained Philip Schuyler’s approval (Hercules was still working on that but he already had Catherine on his side) for which Angelica was _very_ bitter. Peggy had just said it was one of the perks of being the baby sister.

Burr was there too, chatting with Hercules in the kitchen.

“Aaron!” Alexander greeted him. He had given up using the usual _‘Aaron Burr, sir’_ for a couple of years. It seemed too sarcastic and impersonal with everything Burr had done for him. He still used it at work from time to time because he had noticed the interns would also call him that and he thought it was hilarious.

“Alexander,” he smiled.

“Where are the two beautiful ladies of your life?”

Burr rolled his eyes at Alexander’s usual cheekiness. What? He was using his first name now, he could not just give up on teasing him! “In the bedroom, playing.”

“Hear that kids? Wanna go play along?” Alex asked his children. The two rushed there instantly.

Alex had made good of his promise to himself and had literally covered the little Theo with gifts when she was born. He had offered to babysit – and was very good at it to everyone’s astonishment – and he had been very concerned at every cough and every cry. In fact, he had done such a good job at cooing and worrying for the little girl that her parents had made him the godfather. When Burr had told him, Alex had gaped for a solid thirty seconds before pulling Aaron for a hug. Aaron had looked uncomfortable, his wife had looked amused and the baby had squealed.

Ten minutes later, Theodosia Sr. emerged from the room, smiling. “I left the little ones under Frances’ supervision for now,” she said. “She promised to call us if they start doing _something mushy_.”

John laughed.

It was true that Theo and Philip were getting along extraordinary well. When the adults joked about a future wedding, Aaron and Alex always seemed on the verge of tears. They might get along but they would also prefer not to share a grandchild!

Suddenly Lafayette barged in, not bothering to knock. He was carrying at least four bottles of champagne in each arm (and how did he manage that? it was impressive really) and declared loudly with his usual flair of dramatic: _“_ _Que la fête commence_ _!”_

Behind him, Georges and Martha Washington appeared to be a little embarrassed. Georges quickly congratulated Eliza and Hercules, offering each of them a book – an original edition of Walt Whitman for Eliza and one about the history of fashion for Herc – before settling himself on the couch. Martha went to see the kids. She was spoiling them so much she was almost their grandmother. Alexander joined Georges on the couch and the two started talking.

When they met a couple of years back, Georges had told Alex that his skills with a quill were undeniable. Alex had blushed and had done the only thing he could think of to deflect the situation: he’d started talking. That was how Georges had learned that Alex had _a lot_ to say. By sheer luck, he had been working on the idea of publishing a series of books on the big contemporary issues and concerns of the 21st century and had offered Alex to collaborate. Needless to say Alex did not throw away his shot. He didn’t regret it at all – well except for the fact that Jefferson was also a collaborator and that they didn’t see eye to eye.

While they were talking Laf had opened the bottles and was pouring a generous amount in flutes. _Well at least it didn’t use a sabre like at our wedding,_ Alex thought, _small victories._ John helped Eliza give them away to everybody and went to bring juices to the kids. When he came back along with Martha, he held his flute up along the others.

“A toast,” Angelica grinned at Eliza and Hercules. “To the two of you. May you always be satisfied!”

“Hear, hear!” Peggy laughed. They all took a sip. John went to sit on the other side of Alex and clang their flutes together gently. Alexander grinned.

Then Laf cleared his throat: “ _Mesdames, Messieurs et autres personnes non-binaires_ _,_ I have an announcement to make!”

“Oh God,” Hercules groaned from behind the kitchen counter where he was working on the appetisers.

“Don’t worry, I’ll wait until you get married to dig out the embarrassing stories,” Laf smirked and waved him off. “It’s about Adrienne!”

Adrienne was Lafayette’s high school sweetheart. They had done the long-distance relationship the first time Laf went to the US. When he left again for NYU they broke up. For years now, they had been on-again off-again. Laf didn’t want to come back to Europe, he loved his friends and his job and he had no immediate family waiting for him back in France. Adrienne had loads of siblings she wasn’t ready to leave. Each time they broke it off again, Hercules, Alex and John had witnessed Lafayette going on what they called ‘full French charm’. Laf would go out to a bar, set his eyes on something pretty and properly seduce them by playing the false _ingénue_ with a way stronger French accent than usual. And yet no matter how many flings he had, he always ended up missing Adrienne. When he met him, Laf even had a crush for Washington. His friends had watched his flirting with mild horror. Georges had been oblivious to it all and had even introduced him to his wife. Martha was not as blind as her husband but she was more amused than crossed about it. She was a beautiful soul. She had welcomed Lafayette in her home with opened arms and now that Laf was no longer pining for Georges, he had basically become their adoptive son!

“What about Adrienne? Are you guys back together?” Eliza asked sweetly.

“ _Mieux !_ Her company is opening an office in New York! She’s going to live here!”

Everybody cheered and offered congratulations. Laf had a dreamy look on his face and Alex prayed to whoever listening that they could make it work. Laf deserved some good in his life.

The kids peaked up from the bedroom, asking what the fuss was about. Aaron picked his daughter up while Frances settled herself on John’s lap. Philip’s short legs were a little slower but he managed to get to the couch. He tugged at Alexander’s leg.

“Yes son?” Alex smiled.

“Up!” He demanded.

Alex chuckled and picked him up. The little boy leaned on his father’s chest and let out a happy sound. Alex gently traced patterns on his back and his son was slowly lulled to sleep. From the corner of his eyes, Alexander could see Frances chatting animatedly with Peggy who was still sitting on the floor. Frances was on John’s lap and he was trying to braid her hair. Laf said something stupid and everybody laughed. Alex watched John’s face breaking into a huge smile and his eyes twinkled. John caught him looking and his smile turned softer, a smile reserved only for him and their children. Alex felt something stirred in his chest. He reached for John with his free hand. His husband took it and squeezed it.

“You’re ok?” John whispered.

Alex nodded vigorously. His throat was tight and he was holding onto John like a lifeline as if everything would fade away in an instant if he closed his eyes. But this was real. His son falling asleep, warm against him. John’s hand in his, grounding him. All his friends talking and laughing in the room, a family he never thought he’d have.

“Never been happier,” he replied.

And the great part was that he meant it.

 

 

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again I'm so grateful for everybody who read this, wrote a comment, left a kudo... I'm gonna miss publish regularly and I'm gonna miss you <3
> 
> Like I said, I have another project which I am currently writing but I don't know when that's gonna be published. In the meantime, I have another Lams fic [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8179487) and if you guys wanna send me headcanons, prompts or requests for this verse, please to so on my [Tumblr](http://i-dreamthedream.tumblr.com/), you will make me cry with happiness! 
> 
> Lots of love! <3 
> 
> Lucy

**Author's Note:**

> *Nervously bitting my nails*  
> So???? What did you think? A comment or kudo would make my day :D 
> 
> The title if the prologue comes from a poem by Arthur Rimbaud called 'Roman' ('Novel') You can roughly translate it as "Then, the one you adore one night deigned to write you!" 
> 
> Come see me on Tumblr @i-dreamthedream to talk about Hamilton, musicals and that other stuff called 'life' ^^
> 
> See you soon!


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